


Sempadinum

by Hecallsmehischild



Series: The Resilience Saga [4]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 22:03:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 33,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7775350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hecallsmehischild/pseuds/Hecallsmehischild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Resilience Saga, story 4: In the wake of his latest encounter with the Swollen Eyeball, Zim tries to regain some semblance of control in his life on Earth. But his governmental "questioner" is getting under his skin. And why is his sister always humming now? And what does Red think he's DOING with this stupid plan of his? Trigger warnings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Judgment Day

Not much had changed in the courtroom since he had last been there, Zim noted. A few obnoxious posters had switched, and there were one or two more webs in the corners of the room. But even the judge was the same judge he had stared up at from the defendant's seat in chains. Now, however, he was seated across from the defendant's bench, staring at a lineup of the most prominent Swollen Eyeball members, each in an orange jumpsuit and chains.

He'd grown some in his years on Earth, but he still felt dwarfed by the huge, wooden witness stand he'd taken for his seat. Curse Earthlings and their all-around general heightyness. Why did most of them have to be so tall?

"Your honor," Dib's voice rang out, drawing Zim's attention back to the situation at hand. Dib had begun the recovery process well, although his new knees, shins, and shoulder implants still hurt as his body adjusted to them. Once Dib had gotten over the initial shock of needing prosthetic replacements, he'd declared it "neat" and "exciting", that he'd have an advantage in hand to hand combat with three weak spots now nearly invulnerable. Plus, he'd confided in Zim, he couldn't wait to see what gadgets he could build into the limbs when he had time.

"We've heard the account delivered by Zim," Dib stated, "As well as my own testimony concerning the accused, DarkBooty, and his own admission of the murder of Professor Membrane, the kidnapping of a young girl, and a series of inhuman experiments conducted on a visiting member of an alien race, who had been granted amnesty by this government." He paused, and Zim rolled his eyes. He could tell that, in spite of the seriousness of the situation, Dib relished the role he was playing. Everyone was listening to him, hanging on his every word. "We have submitted photographic evidence of the outcome of the surgery after Zim was placed in a regenerative device, and also video files recovered from the Eyeball Headquarters of the vivisection."

"Objection!" The defending lawyer rose. "Those tapes are the property of the Swollen Eyeball, and were removed from the premises without a warrant! Not to mention the unlawful trespass on their premises by one Dib Membrane, who broke in wielding a weapon!"

Dib rounded on the lawyer. "As the human in charge of diplomatic relations with the Irken in question, it is part of my job to make sure that Irken is safe. I received transmissions proving, without a shadow of a doubt, that his safety was threatened. The Eyeball had no right to the Irken in question."

"According to the defendants, the alien came in of his own accord."

"Only under duress, knowing that the daughter of the family that sheltered him was being held hostage." Dib's eyes narrowed. "Unless you want to try and make the point that she came of her own accord, which, by her own statement, she did not."

The defending lawyer sat, slowly.

Zim raised a hand, and Dib paused. "Zim, this isn't Skool, you're on the stand. Say what you have to say."

Lowering his hand, he let his eyes drift down the row of Swollen Eyeball leaders. DarkBooty at the farthest end, his expression unreadable as he stared at the floor. Some other head scientists, whose faces he could recall, but names he never knew. And at the far end, with a resigned look on her face, Agent Tunaghost. Tunaghost, and her stupid spiky hair, and holes in her ears since they took away her jewelry.

He lifted his hand and pointed to her. "Your honorliness," he started, "There was one Swollen Eyeball here who didn't hurt Zim. All she did was ask questions and measure times. She even tried to warn Zim, even though she was too late in finding out. And the Dib will tell you, she is the one who submitted the files to him, and the locations, that led to my escape. I would like to not see her go to prison."

Dib blinked, processing that. "Drop charges, Zim. Your honor, Zim is asking to drop all charges against one Agent Tunaghost, legal name..." He paused, glancing at Tunaghost. She shook her head. "Legal name to be released to the court in private," he concluded, "As the disclosure of her legal name could lead to backlash from other members."

The judge nodded. "Charges against this... Agent Tunaghost... will be rescinded. She will be released tomorrow. Has the accused anything else to say?"

DarkBooty lifted his head for a moment, his face wrinkled in confusion. Zim looked away, unable to meet his eyes, as the defending lawyer sighed, "Nothing further, your honor."

"In that case," the judge picked up his gavel. "The verdict against the Swollen Eyeball members, sans Agent Tunaghost, is guilty." The gavel came down with a bang. "Escort them all to their cells. Their sentence will be handed down in one week."

...

In his second governmental meeting of the day, Zim nearly twisted his own antennae off in frustration. Humans and their scarlet stickynesses that blocked off what was needed were so frustrating. With the help of Dib, Zim had put in a request for a meeting with the government agency responsible for confiscating his equipment when he had first been discovered.

He'd been listening to them go on and on about how much they'd already learned, and of course they couldn't return it because they'd just figured out how to crack the first letter of the Irken written language that labeled every piece of equipment, and maybe by the end of another five years, they could read the instructions for how to turn on the battle simulator!

Zim just stared at the man facing him. "Battle simulator." He said slowly. "Do, please, bring it here and demonstrate it to me."

The man pressed a button on the desk, talking into a speaker for a bit, before sitting back. In a moment, a small, rounded device with three spokes sticking out of it was set on the desk, resting on the spokes. Zim stared down at it. "That..." he said slowly, "That is the battle simulator?"

The man's excitement began to fade. "Well... of course... as best as we can decipher by the instructions on the side." He turned it, pointing to the Irken lettering engraved on the side.

Zim reached over, mutely, and turned it so the spokes faced upward.

"Hey, don't touch that!" The man protested.

Ignoring him, Zim toggled one of the spokes, pulling it back. The device thrummed to life, hovering an inch over the desk. Turning it slightly, he toggled the second spoke, and shoved the device off the desk.

"Be careful with that!" The man dove for the device. It dropped down, hovering an inch over the floor, and began zooming around the room. In its path, the carpet lightened, as years of dirt and grime began disintegrating, attracted to the surface of the device as it rolled around and around, hovering and zooming.

Zim turned back to the man, who watched in disbelief. "A battle simulator." He repeated, slowly. "You are so very—"

"Zim." Dib said warningly.

"...un-knowledgable, about Irken technology." Zim rubbed his face. "Listen. I need my technology back. I need my base back. Obviously, as much as the Earth authorities would enjoy keeping Zim in one piece, I don't think they are always capable of doing so. Or keeping my family safe, for that matter. I think that I have proven VERY well that I am in no way interested in destroying this planet, or its people, _even when they turn against me._ " He glared at the man. "But when they do turn against me, and people I care about, I need a way to make sure the damage they intend to do is contained to a minimum. Therefore, I want back every piece of technology confiscated by the government when I was first discovered, as well as the ones found at the Swollen Eyeball Headquarters."

"You can't just expect—"

"If you comply," Zim continued, as if the man hadn't spoken, "Zim will teach a representative of your choosing how to operate, build, and replicate any piece of Irken technology that they so obviously do not understand how to USE."

Dib winced, but Zim just picked up the vacuum device, and held it over the trash can. Its surface was much darker and rounder than it had been before. He toggled the third spoke, and an inch-thick layer of filth fell off the surface, into the trash can.

"Do we have a deal?"


	2. Warm Waters

"Please get up today."

She closed her eyes, willing the voice to leave her alone.

"Mom, please." A small hand slipped into hers. "Please get up. It's been a week. You have to eat something."

Turning her face away, she pulled her covers tighter.

"Just a shower and a bowl of cereal," the voice pleaded. "That's all, then you can come back if you want."

She closed her eyes. Somewhere in her mind, she knew she needed to get up. But the lead weight in her chest made it impossible to care. Why, what was the point of getting up? The only thing that was assured from being conscious was getting hurt, and feeling grief. Better to let the weight sink her, the pain wasn't as sharp that way.

There was silence for awhile, before she felt the covers slide off of her, and cold tendrils lift her up. Gaz's voice echoed in her mind.

_I'm sorry. You're not leaving me a choice._

Gloria felt a spark anger flicker dimly. Gaz didn't have any right to do this. Just because she was an alien, and stronger, didn't give her the right to move Gloria around like a rag doll. Besides, she'd had enough of alien intervention in her life. She wished a shield around the whole planet, blocking them all out forever.

She felt a falter as she was being carried, and her anger shifted into remorse. She hadn't thought twice about taking an unknown child into her house as her own once, and now, she was bombarding that same child with thoughts about how unwanted she was because she wasn't human. She rested a hand on one of the tendrils. _I'm sorry. It hurts. I don't mean it. Everything just hurts._

She felt her clothes being peeled off as her body was slipped gently into warm water. She could feel a cloth rubbing her back gently. Her mind wandered back to the times she'd bathed Dib this way, with Gaz watching on impassively from the doorway. She shut her eyes again, ashamed of herself. Ashamed that she couldn't bring herself to do something as simple as bathe without being coerced, and that her daughter had to do it for her.

She felt the sweat and grime of a week begin to disintegrate in the water as Gaz bathed her, laying her back to wash her hair as well. The cold air hit her for a moment as Gaz pulled her out, but just as quickly she was wrapped in a robe, her hair bound up in a towel. She opened her eyes once more, looking up. Gaz towered over her, even while carrying her, black and billowing. Her daughter looked straight ahead, the corners of her red eyes pulled downward.

She heard a door opening, and turned her head forward. Gaz drifted onto the front porch, shrinking down as she moved. She placed Gloria in a small, cushioned chair that looked suspiciously like one from the living room. Returning to her appearance as a little girl, she climbed into Gloria's lap, and rested her head on her chest.

"It's okay Mom." Gaz said quietly. "You'll get through this. I promise. We'll all be here. I'm not going anywhere. Dib's stupid head is still around... Zim will come talk to you."

Gloria looked out over the front yard, taking it in. She'd been back for five years now, but she hardly ever looked around herself anymore. When had that stopped? She remembered finding this home with Ivan, but there had been flowered hedges around the yard, and trees with nightblooming jasmines crawling their trunks. When had all that been replaced by grass and electric shock fencing?

_Ivan._

She dropped her head, resting it on Gaz's, the towel sliding off her hair. Gaz reached up, gently running fingers through Gloria's knee-length purple hair, patiently untangling each knot she came across.

A rattle at the curb caught her attention, and she glanced up. A man was taking garbage cans to the curb. _He must be a neighbor,_ She thought. She watched as he turned, and crossed back into her yard. She stiffened slightly, and Gaz took her hand.

"It's okay Mom. He takes the garbage out for us."

Gloria watched, warily, as the man disappeared down the side of the house, and returned with more cans. "We..." She paused, "We can't afford help... can we?" Alarmed, she realized she didn't even know the state of their finances. Ivan's research had provided just enough for them in the beginning, but she hadn't paid attention since her return.

"Yeah, Mom." Gaz answered sadly. "We can afford it. Dad had a trust set up... he got to be a really important scientist. You don't have to worry about anything again."

Gloria stared ahead for a moment, before wrapping her arms tightly around Gaz, and breaking into a shuddering sob.

_I don't want his money. I want my husband back._

For a moment, the man by the curb looked up from the garbage, watching the scene on the porch. And then, he was closing the lids and walking off down the street, not looking back.

 


	3. Tiny Little Steps

Zim set his bags down in the doorway of his former base, looking around the room in disgust. What hadn't been stripped away was covered in filth from years of disuse and rot. Animal leavings were everywhere, and there were even a few nests poking out of holes in the wall. He'd passed the overgrown front yard, hinting more life burrowing among the rotting plastic lawn decorations.

His equipment would begin arriving in a few hours, on special transport from the government facility. Dib would help him begin to set up tomorrow. _I should clean this wreck._ But even as he braced himself to go farther in, he couldn't bring himself to lift a foot.

Everyone had been disappointed at his decision to return to his base, especially Mikko and Tiana. Tiana had begged and pleaded and demanded to know why he couldn't just stay with them. Mikko, on the verge of graduating Hi-Skool, hadn't been as insistent, but had sunk into a sort of sulk, which was its own protest altogether. Della had pursed her lips, unhappy with the idea, but she'd given in, so long as he let them know when his base was presentable so they could have a proper housewarming.

"My base isn't that cold," He muttered to himself. At least Tom had just informed him his job was waiting for him to come back, and to be there on time. He was grateful for Tom's stability. He cared deeply for all in that family, but the females seemed to move their moods so quickly, it was hard to predict at times. He had only seen Tom truly angry once, and it was in defense of his family.

Family. He reached up and touched the fresh bandage tied around his forehead. The word had come to have so many different meanings. He had the family that had taken him in, and then he had the family that he was related to by biological processes that were distasteful for him to even consider at the moment. But whatever had brought Red to the point of committing the acts he so deeply regretted now, Zim couldn't help but be grateful to be alive. Yes, he decided. In spite of everything, it was good to be alive.

Zim glanced down at his bags, sighing. He wasn't ready to start cleaning up his base, he didn't even want to think about his base in this state, and even this apathy disturbed him. Where he would have happily spent hours just de-germifying his base before, he now stared at the wreckage with a sense of reluctance to involve himself. _I'm just tired,_ he reasoned. And he was, the last two weeks had taxed him to his physical and emotional limits. The tiredness went much deeper than his body.

"You 'kay Masta?"

Zim blinked, as GIR strolled in past him, picking up the bags. "Zim is fine, GIR, when did you get here?"

"You said go get food, GIR gots food. You been standin' there long time, just starin'."

Zim sighed. "I suppose I have."

GIR tilted his head a little, his silver hair falling past cyan eyes. "You's diff'rent, Masta."

Zim snorted. "You're one to talk."

GIR grinned a little. "Yeah, guess so. Thinkin's easier now, an' sayin' things right so's you get it, that's easier too." His smile faded. "But you's a lot sadder'n you used ta be."

Zim's mouth quirked. "Sometimes, GIR. Sometimes I'm very happy. But right now I don't even know where to start on this base."

GIR grabbed Zim's shoulders and turned him toward the door. "Don' worry 'bout it, Masta. GIR's got it! Go 'way now, come back later."

Zim blinked, trying to turn back. "GIR you can't possibly—"

GIR steered him toward the door. "No don' 'but' me I'mma clean base. Go 'way now. Bye Masta, have fun!" The door slammed shut behind Zim, the lock clicking in place.

Zim stood there, shocked. _Did GIR just..._ He shook his head. Normal SIRs never gave their masters commands, much less rebelled, but GIR had never been a normal SIR. Even less so now, in humanoid form. _Apparently with human emotions as well. Stupid hyumans will infect the universe with their idiotic emotions._

He stared at his feet awhile, before beginning his trek down the streets. He'd put it off long enough, he supposed. He should see his... mother. Again. Gaz would already be furious that he hadn't spoken to her since his return. His fear of her was less, but his natural instincts still screamed _Predator_ whenever she was near.

It wasn't too long before he saw the house in the distance. The smelly garbage human was walking down the sidewalk at a fast clip away from the house. Zim passed him, giving him a wide berth so he wouldn't have to smell the trash. Glancing up at the house, he saw her, sitting in a chair on the porch. Gloria Membrane. Curled up in her lap was Gaz, hugging her tightly as she cried.

Zim's expression softened, and he approached the porch cautiously. Gaz glanced up, giving him a warning look. He paused where he was.

Gloria looked up as well, and began wiping her eyes, trying to clear the tears away. Zim hurried up the steps, over to her side, and caught her hand gently. "If there is anything I have learned here, it's that there's no shame in these leakings." He slipped his hand into hers, his skin steaming slightly at the tears on her hand. He winced, but continued, "I am glad you were able to release them."

Gloria looked down, staring at the porch. Zim's shoulders slumped slightly. Even knowing who he was, she couldn't fully look at him, but he took some encouragement from the fact that she hadn't let go of his hand.

Gaz's thoughts swarmed his mind like angry bees. _Where were you? Why weren't you here sooner?_

Aloud, he spoke to Gloria. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to come sooner. I had to finish all earthly legal dealings with the Swollen Eyeball, and arrange for my equipment to be returned. I'll be living at my previous base from here on out, with visits to... both my families." He paused, and added, "Who are also welcome to visit Zim... Gaz knows where it is. So does Dib."

Gaz scowled at him, but slipped off Gloria's lap. "I'm going inside to get some water for Mom." She stalked past them into the house, slamming the door behind her.

Zim looked at the hand in his. It was about the size of his hand, but somehow frailer looking. Around her wrists were circular scars, the type gained by repeated wrenching against wrist restraints. His own scarred hands traced hers, gingerly. "Mother," he said softly, "I want to tell you something. It may not come out like I want it to, I'm still learning the right ways to say things, after all this time. What I want to say is... I know you suffered a lot." Her hand tensed under his, but he continued. "I can't know that kind of suffering myself, but I understand. In my life I have been... beaten. Tortured. Trained in the most grueling academies. Dissected and experimented on." He shook his head slightly. "I've been insane for many decades, and only been able to reclaim my mind in the last few years on this planet. But in all this, you know... I don't regret it. Being here. Being on Earth, alive, learning and living."

He let his claws pause over the scars a moment. "I have very different and conflicting feelings when I think of you," he admitted. "To me... Della is the one who took me in, and helped me most in reclaiming myself. In that way... she is my Maneem. But you..." He struggled to find gentle words to use. "You... brought me into life. It wasn't your choice." He swallowed a little. "I understand... I wasn't your choice. I wish I..." He paused, breathing slowly in and out. This shouldn't be as hard as it was, he had little to no connection with this woman. "I wish I had been. But I can't change that. And I can't change that I look like him. All I can say is... thank you. Thank you for giving me into life, even if I wasn't your choice."

Gloria's hand lay limp in his. He lifted his head up, to see her gaze still fixed firmly to the porch floor. His shoulders sank as he let go of her hand, and stood straight. "I will come back soon. But I wanted to make sure you were doing well—better. Not well, I know you're not..." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I apologize... I should go."

He turned, walking down the porch steps, through the lawn, and to the sidewalk. He glanced back to the porch one more time.

She had lifted her head, and was watching him walk away. She held his gaze a few moments, from the distance of the sidewalk, before dropping her head back down.

The corner of Zim's mouth curled slightly. _Tiny little steps,_ he mused. _That's the only way any of us get through the day anymore, tiny little steps._


	4. Teach Me Everything

Dib walked up to his house, carefully balancing a stack of pizzas in his good arm. Gaz would hopefully understand why he'd had to be away for several days, but it would be good to have a peace offering in any case. For some reason she enjoyed the taste of some human food. It must be purely for the taste, he reasoned, given that her biology required living creatures to sustain her. At least, that's what she told him when he finally sat her down to ask her everything she knew.

If he was completely honest with himself, though, he knew he'd avoided his home somewhat. He didn't want to think about his father's death, and his mother's catatonic grief was a stark reminder that he was gone.

He opened the door, balancing the pizza carefully, and entered. To his surprise, he saw the table already set, with his mother in one chair. Her hair had been washed and braided, and she was in a clean shirt and jeans. Across from her sat Gaz, looking the same as always.

"You're late." Gaz scowled. "Several days late."

Dib sighed, closing the door. "Sorry Gaz... I brought pizza."

Gaz raised an eyebrow. "Hope you brought enough for four."

Dib blinked. "Four? It's just you, me, and Mom." As he finished, Mikko opened the bathroom door, pulling out a chair and sitting. Dib frowned.

Gesturing to the last seat, Gaz finished, "She said she wanted to talk to you, and she'd wait as long as she had to."

Dib groaned. Was this going to be another sit-in, where she dogged his steps until she got what she wanted? He'd had to drug her to keep her off his trail at one point, would he have to again? He probably couldn't use that trick twice, not if he wanted to live, her mother would take a frying pan to his head.

Dib set the pizzas down in the middle. Gaz stood up, taking a slice, and setting it in front of Gloria. Dib glanced over at Gaz, questioningly, who shook her head. He sighed. So, she still wasn't feeding herself. Gaz had probably washed and dressed her too.

They ate in companionable silence, each stealing glances at Gloria, who merely stared at her plate. When Dib and Mikko had their fill, Gaz pointed at the stairs. Dib nodded sadly, shoving his hands in his pockets and making his way upstairs. It would be best to give his Mom privacy, as Gaz attempted to feed her. He could hear Mikko's steps behind him, and he could feel irritation flickering.

As they reached his door, he turned toward her, glaring. "What exactly is it that you want? It's bad enough you stalked me for several days over Zim, now what? OW!" He reeled slightly as her fist connected with his good shoulder.

"That's for drugging me!" She steamed. "You were supposed to take me with you when you found out anything about Zim at all!"

"Yeah," Dib rubbed his shoulder, "That's great, drag along Zim's little sister who'd probably have gotten as maimed as I did in the process and have Zim rip my throat out for it. Great thinking Mikko. Your level of care for Zim, it's great, but it doesn't equate to ability in combat, or readiness for any kind of fight. The road to hell is paved with good intentions and all that rubbish."

"Then you're going to show me." Mikko reached past him, opening his door, and stalking in.

"Ex-excuse me?" Dib stammered, outrage tying his tongue.

"You're going to show me how to fight. How to defend myself, and how to save someone else at the same time. You're gong to show me how to fire a gun, and whatever other weapons there are lying around. How to think smart about a fight so that I come out on top, even if I'm not as strong as the other person." She turned around to face him, hands on her hips, eyes narrowed. "You're going to show me everything I need to know, so that the next time Zim, or anyone else in my family is in trouble, I can be the one to help, and not just sit in the corner, waiting for them to come back because I can't do anything useful!"

Dib stared for a moment, his outrage draining away. She knew she didn't have what it took naturally, but she was willing to learn it to protect her family. To protect Zim.

"He saved me." Her voice quavered slightly. "He came back to get me out of danger, and he got hurt again. He went after Tiana to save her, and he got hurt worse. He can't always save us. We have to be there for him too. I want to be strong for Zim, Dib. Please help me."

Dib ran a hand through his hair. What was he supposed to say, no? "You can't tell Zim about this, you know." He muttered. "He'll have my head."

Mikko smiled a little. "If he does find out, just leave him to me. I'll make him see."

Dib snorted. "Yeah, good luck with that stubborn idiot." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll teach you some basics tonight, but I have to help Zim set up base tomorrow."

"I'll come too." She rolled up her sleeves. "You can teach me how to fight. He can teach me about his equipment. Between the two of you I'll get to be a capable fighter."

"He's not going to just up and teach you Irken tech!" Dib protested. "It took me years to get him to—"

Mikko rolled her eyes. "Dib, you probably demanded it from him over and over and over. There are much more subtle ways of getting him to explain things, especially if it's something he's an expert in. Just watch and learn, tomorrow. But for now, teach me."

...

Zim returned to his base, knocking on the door. The grass had been cut short, and the lawn ornaments removed. There wasn't a rodent in sight, which was promising. "GIR? I'm back, have you finished?" His foot knocked into something, and he glanced down. A small box sat on his porch, and he picked it up, as GIR opened the door, beaming.

"Mastah, lookit! You proud'a me?"

Zim started, almost dropping the box. His base was spotless. Wall to wall, floor to ceiling, every hole had been patched, painted, and shined. Every bit of rot had been knocked out and filled in again with fresh plaster. It was bare, given, but equipment and furniture would be arriving any moment now.

"The lower levels?" Zim asked, hardly daring to hope.

"All fixed an' ready for stuff ta come back." GIR saluted. "Can I have my tacos now?"

Zim threw back his head and laughed, long and hard. "Yes, GIR, you can have your tacos, you can have as many tacos as you want, Zim will buy you all the tacos you ever want... this is amazing."

GIR blinked, staring at Zim. "Wow... you never said somethin' like that b'fore. TACOS!" With that, he darted into the kitchen.

Zim shook his head, staring around the living room, feeling lighter. Maybe he could live here again after all, and make something of this place.

"Delivery for Irken Zim."

Zim's gut twisted slightly at that voice, as he turned.

Outside, a series of trucks were pulling up to the curb, each one guarded by at least three armed soldiers. On his porch stood an all too familiar figure, holding an all too familiar clipboard, tilting her head in an all too familiar way.

"The government hired me to learn what you've got to teach," Tunaghost sighed, pulling a pen out from behind her ear. "Shall we get started?"


	5. Alien Trolling

Zim stared for a moment, before turning and stalking into the kitchen. He heard footsteps following him in, and he stopped, turning around with a calculated pivot. "Agent Tunaghost," Zim glowered, "If this was part of some deal, or some plea, or some whatever, you can tell them Zim released all charges against you, and ask them to find someone else."

Tunaghost stuck her pen behind her ear casually. "That would be great, Zim, except for the fact that they pulled the video files from the Eyeball Headquarters and saw that I was already your interviewer. They figure some kind of bond was established, however strained, and so they sent me. It's not a matter of choice."

Zim turned away again, now stomping into the kitchen, antennae laid back. "I don't want to have anything to do with the Eyeball, ever again. Any of you!"

Tunaghost followed him in, pulling a chair out at the table by the wall and sitting. Crossing one leg, she set her clipboard on the table. "If you haven't noticed, Zim, there isn't a Swollen Eyeball anymore. They're all in jail. All the leaders are completely disbanded and locked up, which makes me, in essence, an ex-Eyeball."

"Once an Eyeball, always an Eyeball." Zim rummaged in the fridge, not really looking for anything as much as avoiding the human sitting at his table.

"Yes, I see you treat Dib exactly how you're treating me right now." Tunaghost sighed. "Zim, the faster you teach me what they want you to teach me, the faster I can convey it to them, and the faster you don't have to see me."

Zim barked a laugh. "Fast? Hah. You think Irken technology can be taught in a day? You, who are centuries behind in technology, think that it will take you a few days to learn?"

Tunaghost's lips pressed together. "From what I understand, we're only a few decades behind you, three quarters of a century at most. I know you're prone to exaggeration, but try to keep in mind that we're not complete primitive savages."

"Says the female whose job it was to pry open my mind with questions so DarkBooty could place me in the darkest possible situation without a speck of hope." Zim snarled bitterly.

Tunaghost turned her head away at that, focusing on a poster at the far end of the room. Silence ticked away between them for a bit, before she said, "I'm sorry. I didn't know, and I didn't want to know. But I did what I could when I could."

Zim frowned. Curse the human. She didn't have to give in so easily, and sound so regretful. He knew he was being unreasonable. Tunaghost had been the only one to stand up for him, and his escape was due partly to her. Tiana's safety as well. Even if she hadn't been able to smuggle Tiana out, she'd had the sense to hide with his sister until they were found by Membrane's private army.

Grabbing two pieces of round, red fruit, Zim turned, tossing one to Tunaghost. She caught it, startled. "You like apples?"

Zim shrugged. "GIR went to get food and brought back what he liked. If it doesn't kill me, perhaps I will enjoy it."

Tunaghost's eyes widened. "Aren't you going to test it first?"

 _It was only a passing joke, however..._ Zim held it in front of his face somberly. "But of course. Irkens always taste test things before they eat them fully."

"Wait, what—"

CHOMP. Zim bit down on the apple hard. The apple dropped to the ground, and his hands flew to his throat as he gasped, choking and spewing bits of apple all over. Flailing his way to the sink, he bent his head over it, still coughing.

"Zim!"

He turned around, a grin on his face. Tunaghost was frozen, halfway between the chair and him.

"I do believe I enjoy earth apples."

Tunaghost's face turned gala-apple red, and she snatched up her clipboard and pen, scowling. "Fine. You want to be that way, be that way. Show me your stuff, they're unloading it now."

Zim smirked. "Then come back in a few days, it won't even be fully set up until later this week. Did you think all this would reconstruct itself?"

Tunaghost scowled. "According to Dib, you bragged how this entire base set itself up from a drawing on a datapad."

Zim's smirk vanished. _Curse you Dib, and your running mouth._ "Fine. But I already promised Dib that I'd wait until he could come tomorrow and set it up with me."

"Great. I'll be here tomorrow then." She turned, stalking toward the door.

"I'd bet monies you will be." He growled, shutting the door after her. He frowned a moment, turning to the box he'd tossed in the corner once Tunaghost had come. Scooping it up, he opened it. Inside lay two small chips, of Irken design. A wire extended from his PAK, connecting to them.

His eyes widened slightly. _Good Irk..._ He darted to the porch, looking all around. He realized it was foolish, the package had probably been there for hours, but still...

_My Tallest... why would you think of this?_

 


	6. A Richer Palette

_Shif. Plop. Shif. Plop._

Gloria lay back in the cushioned chair on the porch, where Gaz had deposited her earlier. The ache wasn't quite so throbbing today, as long as she didn't think about much, and the sounds on the air might even be considered soothing.

_Shif. Plop. Shif. Plop._

Except for that noise. It had started up five minutes ago, and she'd hoped it would go away, but it hadn't.

_Shif. Plop. Shif. Plop._

She opened her eyes, focusing them on the source of the sound. The man who'd been taking out their garbage for the last week, according to Gaz, stood on the right half of the lawn, digging a hole with a shovel. She frowned a little. "Gaz?"

A small hand touched her arm. "Here Mom, what is it?"

Gloria pointed to the man. "What is he doing? I thought he took out the trash."

Gaz shrugged, nonchalantly. "He's also the gardener. I thought the lawn looked a little boring."

Gloria pursed her lips, not fooled in the least. She'd only just been thinking about how the lawn had looked the other day, with Gaz in her arms. She had no doubt the images had been pulled from her mind, and were being commissioned into recreation in order to draw her out.

 _Can you really blame me?_ The voice sounded in her head, sad and morose. _I have to try._

"No." Gloria said quietly. She took Gaz's hand, squeezing it gently. "Thank you." Her ears picked up the sound of military footsteps, and she looked up again. Zim marched down the walk, dressed in the coveralls of the mechanic shop he had taken employment with. She glanced down, and immediately felt shame. Why couldn't she look at her own son?

His footsteps stopped nearby, and she could hear the slight apprehension in his voice. "Mother, I wished to say hello, and also, if I could, make one more fix to your eyes?"

She shifted, uneasily. The eyes had been a gift from Zim originally, but the upgrades he made hadn't always worked out for the best.

"It is the final change that is needed. The entire coding for color visualization in Irken tech is contained in these chips here." A green, three-clawed hand moved into her sight, cradling two chips.

"And how did you get these?" Gaz demanded. "I thought you were blocked from receiving anything else from Irk."

"I don't know, Gaz, I must have a friend somewhere, they turned up on my front door." His voice was terse, and she felt herself tensing as well.

Reaching up to her eyes, she released the locking mechanisms, and they dropped into her hands, plunging her into darkness. She held them out, and felt Zim take them from her.

She sat in darkness for awhile, hearing the _Shif-plop_ of the gardener's shovel, the whiz and click of Zim's PAK machinery upgrading her eyes, a bird on a neighboring tree. It wasn't too long before she heard, "You can take them now." She held out her hands for a moment, before pulling them back, angry with herself. How long had she been doing this exact same thing to Zim, just because she was afraid of someone touching her face? Zim had done nothing but show her respect, and care, and honor, even when neither of them had known who he was to her.

"Zim… could you put them in for me?"

There was a long pause, and Zim asked, stunned, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, please."

She felt Gaz's hand take her own, and she was grateful. She wanted to change this, even if it was just one thing, but she would need support.

She felt one three-clawed hand brace against her cheek to steady her face, and her entire body went rigid. Her breathing came in short gasps as she cringed. The hand vanished from her face seconds later, and she could feel the anxiety easing.

"It's alright, Mother… just open your hands, I'll give you the eyes."

She balled her hands up tightly. "No. Try again."

"Mother—"

"No." The word came out sharper than she intended it to, and she lowered her voice. "I… have to not be afraid… all the time. Please. Try again."

The hand touched her cheek again, even more gingerly than before. She felt herself tensing again. The claws gently drew back her eyelids, and her right eye slipped into place with a click. She closed it immediately to avoid the disorientation of seeing with only one eye. The hands moved to her left side, placing the eye in with swift precision. The second it clicked into place, he removed his hands.

She realized she'd been gasping again, and deliberately slowed her breathing. She opened her eyes, determined to try looking at Zim. This thought was instantly swallowed up in a wash of joy she hadn't felt in years.

She'd forgotten the richness of color. She'd been plunged into blackness for years under Irken slavery. Zim had restored eyes to her, but only basic functionalities, and for a time she could only see the world in sepia tone. She was grateful for her vision, but missed the colors and hues with which she had once joyfully splashed across canvases and sketchpads in mimicry of the wonder she saw every day. Slowly, he began to give her back the colors, as he had time and memory to do so. She began seeing bits and pieces of a whole, a shade here, a range there, although some things she still wasn't sure had the proper codes. There had been days when she could only stare at the orange grass in bewilderment, hoping Zim would come back and fix what he'd changed soon. Sepias and grays still showed here where she could not see a specific hue or shade that Zim was unable to recall the coding for.

Suddenly, there it was. Everything. Every shade of green, every hue of blue, every possible range and mixture of color and depth was hers to see in all its breathtaking beauty.

She sat on the porch, staring at her plain green lawn, on a boring, cloudless day, and felt tears running down her cheeks for the sheer beauty of the colors.

"Are these the good ones or the bad ones?" Zim asked Gaz anxiously.

"The good kind of crying, idiot." Gaz muttered.

Zim sighed. "Sometimes they look too much alike."

She could hear his feet turning, scraping across the porch as he pivoted away. "I should go, the Dib and I have to set up what we can in the base before—" She reached out, grabbing his arm. He froze, still half turned away. Slowly, he shifted his eyes, just barely peeking back at her.

She stared at him, fully and truly for the first time. Throughout the years, she'd averted her eyes, or glanced at him sidelong, or watched him for a few seconds before turning her head away again.

_His head is smaller, more compact._

_He's smaller than…_

_His eyes… barely a lighter shade, a pinkish-red._

_This isn't Red. This is my son. Not that monster's. I wanted him. I wanted to protect him and keep him._

Slowly, Gloria tugged on his arm, pulling him back. Zim let himself be pulled, still only looking at her sidelong, as if afraid that a full gaze would scare her off.

"Zim…. Would you… look at me?"

And he did, turning his face toward hers. She opened her mouth, and suddenly the words were tumbling out, the words she'd said to Ivan, the ones she'd wanted to say to Zim since she sent him away.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't able to protect you. I'm sorry I wasn't there to show you what a mother was. I'm sorry I couldn't be your mother. I wanted you, I fought for you… I think I fought for you… I gave up fighting one day… but I never stopped wanting to save you, any of you, I always wanted…" She choked. "I'm sorry."

Zim's mouth hung open in shock as she continued.

"I know you picked another mother, someone who helped you where I couldn't in the last several years, I know it's too late, but I… I want you to know that I'm sorry, and I wanted to…"

She felt his hand on her face again, and she flinched, but he kept it there gently. She could feel ridges and ripples in his skin. Scars, he had them. How many? How did he get them? Why didn't she know anything about her son? So many questions crowded her mind from all the years of wondering if even one of them survived. Once again, she could feel his hands wiping away her tears.

"You're not my Maneem," Zim said slowly, "That is true. But you are my mother… and I hold you in very high honor. And perhaps, given time, we can know each other better."

Gloria nodded, pushing Zim's hands away so he wouldn't be burned more by her tears. Already his hands were smoking slightly. Zim stood there, awkwardly a moment.

Gaz mumbled, "Isn't Dib waiting for you or something?"

Zim nodded, "Yes. I should be going." He glanced at Gloria. "I will return to see you again."

Gloria nodded, watching him walk off. Her glance snagged on the gardener as Zim passed him. The man seemed frozen mid-shovel, staring up at her with an agonized expression on his face. Startled, she averted her eyes.

"Hey!" Gaz snarled, angrily. "You're not being paid to gape."

_Shif. Plop. Shif. Plop. Shif. Plop. Shif. Plop._

Gloria sighed. She felt she should correct Gaz, tell her to be kinder to the gardener, but she was too tired. Maybe after a few hours' sleep. Maybe then…


	7. Unpack Unload

"Hey spaceboy, what took you so long?"

Zim felt himself unwind at the familiar insult carried by the familiar voice. Entering his base, he glanced around at the equipment the government trucks had dumped on his doorstep the day before. "Minding my own business, stinkhead, something you should look into."

Dib poked his head out from behind a particularly large crate, grinning. "Not in a million years. So what's this thing?"

"A crate," Zim remarked dryly, "A container used for holding stuff."

Dib rolled his eyes. "You're such a jerk."

Zim grinned a little, feeling a small surge of gratitude. Whether he was doing it on purpose or not, Dib was already putting Zim at ease with their insulting banter. It was so… _normal._ It's a word he missed on occasion.

"Seriously, though, Zim, it's pretty big."

Zim's antennae jolted upward as he looked to the top of the crate. Peering over from the top, quite near the ceiling, was Mikko.

"Hey!" He protested. "You weren't supposed to come over until my base was all set up!"

"Dib invited me." Mikko grinned, as Dib sputtered up at her. "Besides, I wanted to see all your stuff. You never really talked to us about it, and it's supposed to be super advanced, right?"

Zim crossed his arms. "Well…"

"Is it mostly stuff like really advanced appliances, or do you have weapons and testing stuff too?"

Zim shifted. "Um—"

"Oh hey it's open." Mikko hopped onto a slightly shorter crate, sliding back the lid of the tall one. "Wow… hey Zim it looks like a control panel out of Star Trek!"

Zim blinked, shocked he actually understood the reference. "Probably a main control console, needs to be installed in the lower levels. If I get that in, the base will start repairing itself."

"Where's the fun in that?" Mikko griped. "Aren't you going to show me your tech, Zim? Dib always says it's really hard to get, it must have taken you a pretty long time to get the hang of it in the beginning, huh?"  
A small flush of pride lit his face. "Not hardly, it took Zim mere weeks to master every piece of equipment in this room."

"Only a few weeks?" She peered back into the crate. "Looks really complicated, it would probably take me forever. Dib, bet you couldn't do it either."

Dib flailed his arms. "I could too, and I could do it faster than Zim!" He paused as Mikko glared down at him. His face lit with some kind of understanding that escaped Zim, as Dib put his hands in his pockets, nodding solemnly, "I mean… yeah… it might take me awhile. Guess you're pretty smart, Zim."

Zim blinked, a little confused and thrown off, but that little bit of pride was getting bigger, and it felt pretty good. "Of course it would be too much for you, not that it's your fault." He grinned good-naturedly. "You're only human." It couldn't hurt to show them a few gadgets here and there, maybe one or two of the more impressive ones…

"As are most of us here, so, shall we start?"

Zim's good mood instantly vanished at the sound of Tunaghost's voice. Laying his antennae back, he stubbornly continued facing away from the front door, where he'd heard her. "Do we have to do this today?"

"Yes, or you'll keep putting me off."

Mikko dropped down to the floor, looking disappointed. "Zim, who's she? Why's she here?"

Zim opened his mouth, but Tunaghost swept past him, hand extended. "Hello. I'm Agent Tunaghost. Zim told me to get your sister to safety. Tia, right?"

"Tiana." Mikko took Tunaghost's hand, shaking it. "Zim mentioned you. Said you were the least smelly and intolerable Eyeball member he'd met. Guess that means he likes you."

Zim sputtered furiously, as Tunaghost chuckled. "Hardly. Especially since I'm going to have to ask him about how all his equipment works. Something tells me it'll be like pulling teeth."

Zim flinched, turning away and stomping over to a farther crate, extending his spiderlegs to begin prying it open. He could feel someone come up behind him, and tensed.

"I'm sorry." Tunaghost sighed. "Poor choice of words. I wasn't there, I didn't see the files until after…"

Zim scowled, unconsciously running his tongue along his teeth. The regenerative fluid he'd soaked in had encouraged new teeth to grow, pushing out the ones that had been crushed. It was a stupid reaction, the damage to his teeth had been the least of what they'd done, but it still reminded him of the whole situation.

"I'm sorry." Tunaghost repeated. "Look, Zim, I wasn't thrilled about taking the job, but they were hedging on whether or not to release me even though you dropped charges. Guilt by association, the Eyeball has been officially deemed a terrorist organization. They said they'd wipe my record, and my getting out would go a lot more smoothly if I agreed." He glanced over his shoulder at her. "I'm making the best of the situation, could you do me a tiny favor and at least work with me until they replace me with someone else?"  
Zim grumbled lowly, "If I have to."

"Good." She set her clipboard down, rolling up her sleeves. "Alright then. Direct me."

Zim glanced over at Mikko and Dib. Dib seemed a little uneasy at the presence of Tunaghost, but the fact that he hadn't made a move to interfere was telling of Dib's relative trust in her. Mikko appeared upset, but it seemed to consist of more disappointment than anger. Perhaps she had wanted this to be an adventure between the three of them? He'd make it up to her later.

"Well, we need to get that one," He pointed to the first large crate, "To the underground levels. After that, we'll have the computer re-integrated into the base, and tasks will be immeasurably easier."

Tunaghost tilted her head back to stare at the crate. "That's going to take more muscle than the four of us have."

"No worries. I have my pig back." Zim nodded.

Tunaghost blinked. "Pig. You have a pig here?"

Zim grinned a little. "Yes, the pig will carry the weight, we need only steady it. Just watch. Lesson one, anti-gravity is your friend."


	8. No More In Darkness

Gloria opened her eyes, looking up at the ceiling. Gaz must have carried her back inside, she couldn't remember getting there. The bedding smelled fresh, and was warm. Newly washed, while she was out.

 _Out_. She threw off the covers, bolting upright. _Out, the colors, there aren't enough colors here. What am I doing in this hole?_ She stood to her feet, then collapsed back down as the dizziness hit her. She took a few breaths, waiting for the world to stop moving, before she tried again, more slowly. The room tilted slightly, but she was able to keep her feet. She shuffled toward the door, carefully, pulling her robe closer. Through the door, taking each stair carefully as she clung to the railing.

"Mom!" Gaz's voice froze her foot in midair. "You're up!" Gaz stood by the stove, attempting to boil something… possibly oatmeal. The smoke coming off the pot didn't look promising.

Gloria crept down the remaining stairs. Gaz abandoned the stove, hurrying over. "Are you okay? Do you need something?" She squinted up, worried.

Turning her head toward the door, Gloria reached an arm out toward it, wordlessly.

"Really?" Gaz's normally flat tone contained a note of hope. "Okay, come on, Mom." She took Gloria's arm, helping her out the front door and into the chair.

The front lawn already looked different. A deep hole had been dug, presumably for a shrub or tree. Part of the other side had a section of furrowed dirt, presumably for a small garden. The gardener was there again, with a shovel, working on the sides of the yard. The electric fencing had been removed, and a ditch was being dug along the sides.

She looked around, drinking in the scene. The rich browns and emeralds soothed her the more she stared at them, assuring herself that they were still there. That her eyes worked perfectly.

"Hey, Mom?" Gloria turned her head to look at Gaz. "I found a few things for you. I was wondering if they might help you." She disappeared into the house for a minute, coming back with a canvas bag. "I found these in Dad's basement. He kept them in a closet."

Gloria stared at the bag. She reached out, running her hands over its worn threads and fraying handles. Stains splattered it, front and back, inside and out, of every color. She pulled it close, smelling the acrylics.

"Thought maybe, you might try painting again. Maybe it'll help." Gaz mumbled.

Gloria looked up at her yard, and back down at the bag.

"What is it?" Gaz touched her arm gingerly.

_What if I can't paint anymore?_

Gaz was silent. Gloria looked up at the yard again. The colors were wonderful to see, but none of them stirred that spark she'd felt so many years ago. They were still tame, and controlled, and complacent.

"Maybe that's why." Gaz murmured. "Mom, wanna go somewhere?"

Gloria shifted a little, tense at the thought.

"I'll be there, promise—" She darted inside as smoke came billowing out the front door. She came back out, carrying a pot of charcoal, hurling it onto the walk. She sighed. "I'll be there, now that the house isn't gonna burn down."

 _My Gaz. She shouldn't have to be there for me… that's my job._ She reached out, touching Gaz's shoulder. _Let's go._

Gaz turned, billowing out and sweeping over Gloria. For a moment, there was nothing. And then, Gloria was seated on a shore. It was a rough, pebbly little beach with toughened seagrass growing in clumps off little bluffs. The waves were small, and barely rolled at all. A sandpiper darted along the water's edge, nipping at the sand for its burrowing supper. Gloria breathed deeply, taking in the salt air, feeling the breeze in her hair.

_Too long in the dark. No more._

Without looking, she patted the sand beside her. She felt a smaller form settle in beside her as she opened her paint-spattered bag, withdrawing two canvases. One blank one she hadn't filled in yet. The other—after a glance, she put it back in the bag. She wasn't ready to finish that one yet. She might never be. But for now, she could try.

Arraying her tubes and brushes, she set the canvas against her knees, and set a color-dipped brush to the canvas.

_No more in the dark._

…

_Greetings Human smeet Mikko._

_We have only met once, and we met under deeply unfortunate and disturbing circumstances. There is a great deal that I could say here in this letter about it, but would prefer to speak to you of in person, including my apology._

_I will understand if you do not wish to speak in person given the nature of our previous meeting, however if you wish to do so, you may have in attendance whoever you wish. I will speak in front of whomever you decide to have there. If this is acceptable to you, inform Zim. He will be able to find me._

_Almighty Tallest Red._


	9. What Did You Expect?

Zim stared at the letter for the twentieth time, wishing for the millionth time that GIR, in all his advanced programming and integration into societies, had even a tiny sense of the definition of "bad timing." If the SIR had waited another few moments to burst in and shove the letter in Mikko's face, Tunaghost wouldn't be looming over him, demanding an explanation. Tunaghost had been ready to leave, having written a whole document full of notes on his console alone. If GIR waited another few moments, Zim could be trying to reassure his sister, who was currently sitting on the front steps, staring down at the balled up fists she'd placed in her lap, instead of listening to Tunaghost demanding to know why Tallest Red was contacting Zim on one side, and having Dib giving him death-stares from the other.

"Agent Tunaghost," Zim interrupted, icily, "As you are obligated to report your findings to the government, and our deal only involved the exchange of technological information, I am not obligated to speak to you of the contents of this letter. If you would excuse us, your help in installing the control panel is appreciated, but it would be best for you to leave now."

"I wasn't involved in most of the goings on of the alien sector of the Eyeball, but I heard Tallest Red's name thrown around enough to know he had the potential of being a serious threat to our world if not handled carefully. If he's in contact with you, yes, I have an obligation to tell the authorities if I suspect he may have hostile intentions!"

Zim shoved the letter at her angrily. "Does that look hostile to you? He wants to apologize, he's willing to do it in front of an audience at her specification."

"What does he have to apologize for?" Tunaghost shoved the letter aside.

"That is not your concern!" Zim growled. "And you will not speak to the government of this."

"Give me a good reason not to!" Tunaghost said in exasperation. "Tell me why he's not a threat, and I won't!"

Zim grated his teeth together. "His sanity has been recently pieced back together, much as mine has been since coming here, and—"

"He's here?" she demanded. "Like, on-this-planet here?"

"Yes!" Zim exploded. "And for the record there is already a predator of Irkens on this planet that is granting him limited freedoms and monitoring him very closely so if he does ANYTHING that threatens this planet or its inhabitants he will be instantly ingested so if you DON'T MIND it would be wonderful if he didn't have to worry about the government scrutinizing his every move as well!"

Tunaghost stood her ground a moment, before turning on her heel and stalking away from the house. Zim growled after her, and turned his attention to the next problem. Dib's foot tapped against the porch, his scowl having reached epic proportions.

"Care to explain, spaceboy? I didn't know Red was still on-planet."

"Then you haven't been using your disproportionately large head," Zim snapped, "Who do you think got us out of the Eyeball?"

Dib's foot stopped moving. "What? But, I woke up to Gaz, didn't she find a way?"

"No, Dib. You got shot and went into shock, and I was too weak to make any kind of defense. Red made a stand for us, and that's the last thing I remember before I blacked out. I woke up to him and GIR, so I assume GIR came in at some point, but it was most likely Red's call to bring you along as well as save me. Considering the last time you two met on the Massive he was trying to stab you to death, I'd say he's changed enough to warrant being listened to without a gun pointed at his head." He stated pointedly.

Dib's eyes narrowed. "Well that's ultimately up to your sister, isn't it? She's the one he kidnapped." He sat on the lawn, leaning against a garden gnome. "You do know, saving my life doesn't in the least pardon his crimes."

"I never said they did!" Zim snapped. "But it shows he's at least trying!" He paused, realizing Mikko hadn't looked up once since handing the letter over to him. He eased over to her, sitting down nearby. "Smeet?"

She wiped her eyes with one hand, still staring down.

Zim watched her for a moment. "You know, he won't come near you if you tell him no. He's… different now." He paused, trying to think of anything he could say that would help her understand. "You remember how Zim was at first? Very snarly, demanding, screaming?"

"You're not still?" Dib muttered. Mikko cracked a tiny smile.

Zim rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean." He continued, seriously. "I was very broken in my mind, the way I thought, and I learned how to be better. Red, he just stopped thinking brokenly. He's just starting to learn a better way, and he's trying to do better. I think he wants to start by apologizing for the bad times."

Mikko bit her lip. "Zim, you promise he's not going to… try and kidnap me again?"

Zim looked away. "I can't promise that, I'm not in his head. I am almost completely sure that he wouldn't… but if he did, you know I would find you, and bring you back."

"Even though he's your dad?"

"Yes." Zim replied without hesitation. "But I do not believe that is his intention at all."

Mikko took a deep breath. "I want you here… and Dib… and Mom and Dad."

Zim nodded. "I'll contact him, and set up a time to meet at my base."

She stood, still not looking at him. "I think I want to go home for now, Zim. I'll come by later, ok?"

Stung, he nodded, watching her walk off. Dib glanced at him. "What did you expect, that she'd be okay with it right away?" He shrugged. "I'll be by later too, I'll walk her home."

Zim didn't respond as Dib jogged to catch up with Mikko. Reaching into his PAK for the anchor link with his Tallest, he began searching for his location. He wasn't that far away, it seemed. In fact he was… right…

_What are you doing THERE?_

…

Gloria sat on the couch, watching as Gaz packed her art kit, readying her for another visit to the beach. She'd been wondering, for awhile now, how long Gaz had been taking care of her, but she'd held back out of selfishness. She knew that if she knew the answer… she'd have to put a stop to it. But it wasn't Gaz's place to be the mother, and as the days slipped by, the heaviness still weighed Gloria down, but it was no longer unmanageable, and it was time she returned to being the mother.

"Gaz?"

Gaz turned, crossing the room to stand nearby. "Yeah Mom?"

"Gaz, how long has it been since you've been to Skool?"

Gaz flinched, averting her eyes. "Mom, you know I don't need that, I'm fine."

Gloria stood, holding onto the arm of the couch. "Gaz, you may not be human, but if you're going to stay here, you need to learn what we know, and how we learn it. Also, if you're away from Skool too long, they'll start to think something's wrong. They'll start asking questions."

Gaz turned her head away.

"Gaz. Go to Skool today. I'll be alright." She reached out, taking her bag of paints. "I'll go and be back."

"You're sure, Mom?"

Gloria patted Gaz's cheek gently. "I'm sure. Go on, we'll have dinner together, okay?"

Reluctantly, Gaz nodded, and walked upstairs to fetch her Skool supplies. Gloria shouldered her bag and faced the door. She could feel anxiety curdling her stomach, but she pushed through it, walking toward the door. Out the door. Down the walk. One step at a time, she began making her way down the street.

"If you are going somewhere, it might be better to have a conveyance."

Gloria jerked her head up, startled. Ivan's car was pulled up beside her, the trash collector… gardener…. Sitting in the seat, staring forward as he spoke.

"I can convey you where you would like to go if you wish."

She frowned, uneasy. "I thought you were the gardener."

"I was hired by Membrane Inc. to be an all-around help on the estate, in whatever capacity is needed." The man glanced up for half a second, before dropping his gaze back down to the steering wheel.

Gloria considered a moment. "Well… how far is the beach?"

That brought his head up, and he stared incredulously. "You were going to walk that far?"

Her face flushed. She couldn't remember how far it was, and Gaz had transported her within seconds.

He quickly averted his eyes again. "You'd be walking until nightfall before you reached it. Allow me to convey you."

She fingered the strap of her bag. She didn't know him, only had seen him working on their front lawn a few times. But even Gaz had said Membrane Inc had hired him. And Membrane Inc would be able to track one of their employees if he suddenly vanished with her. He must know that, so he would have no reason to do so. Carefully, she eased around the front of the car and slipped into the passenger seat.

"What is your name?" She asked, clicking the buckle in place. "Gaz never introduced us."

There was a pause, as if he had to consider the answer, before it came. "Scharlach." He nodded. "It's, ah….. Ger-man."

She peered over at him, taking in his appearance for the first time. He was taller than most, and obviously uncomfortable in the economy car Ivan had kept. He wore a red long sleeved shirt, black pants, and yellow rubber gloves, still covered in dirt from the garden. He had a worn backpack hanging from his shoulders, which prevented him from leaning back in the seat. His face was long and angular, and his head topped by a mop of orangey-red hair. His eyes, pointed fixedly down, looked to be violet.

"Is that so? Well, do you know your way around well enough to get me to the beach?"

He nodded, shifting the car into drive.

"Scharlach is a bit of a mouthful," Gloria remarked, presently. "Is there anything else I can call you?"

"Perhaps Scar." He replied. "It is appropriate."

Gloria raised an eyebrow, but did not press any further. She turned forward, hugging her bag of paints to her chest. Maybe watching the waves alone would help free her brush even further. Maybe she could surprise Gaz with a landscape painting… did Gaz even enjoy that sort of thing? She could find out.

Would Zim enjoy a painting? The thought surprised her. She didn't know hardly anything about him. That would need to change, and soon. Perhaps on her next outing.


	10. Out of Your Mind

"You okay, Mikko?" Dib tilted his head, trying to get a glimpse of her lowered face past her hair. "You don't have to meet him, you know. You can just tell him to buzz off. In fact, I'd strongly recommend sending him a loaded super-soaker as an answer."

Mikko trudged on, hands clasped in the front pocket of her hoodie. Silent.

"Heck, I'll hand deliver it for you. Maybe wrapped in ground beef."

Her shoulders hunched a little.

"Hello Tallest Red, Mikko wanted her answer delivered with care and tact. Eat meat!"

Mikko allowed a giggle at that, and Dib grinned. _She doesn't need to see Red, it would be better if she forgot he existed,_ Dib decided. _It would be better if a lot of people forgot he existed. In fact, the whole world would be a lot better if—_

"I think I need to hear him, Dib."

 _-If she weren't so darn meek!_ Dib ran his hand through his sickle hair. "I think it's a bad idea, Mikko. Nobody should be near that psychopath, least of all you."

Mikko kicked at a stick, still staring at the ground as she walked. "You said Zim used to be a psychopath."

"That's different!" Dib protested. "Zim never… and he even made a conscious choice not to… do what Red did!"

"Yeah. You're right. But he tells me a lot of stories." She glanced up. "He tried to kill you. Really kill you, a lot. He said the scariest one for you both was the rubber pigs."

Dib flinched, averting his eyes. Although it had technically un-happened, he still had faint echoes of memory concerning the events surrounding the rubber piggy incident.

"But now you trust him. Like, really trust him."

"Yes…" Dib answered reluctantly.

"After he turned you into meat, nearly drowned you with a water balloon, and experimented on your head, you trust him now."

"…..yes….." The word came out even slower. Dib did not like her train of thought.

"He got better." She said simply. "If Red is getting better," she took a moment to breathe, "and if not even hearing him out caused him to get worse again, who's to say he wouldn't do something terrible because I wouldn't even listen?"

"I don't think you're going to be the reason he goes insane again." Dib muttered, doubtfully.

"I'm going to hear him out." She watched him carefully. "Will you be there?"

"Of course I'll be there." Dib shoved his hands into the pockets of his trench coat. "Somebody has to be there to bash his head in if he tries anything. Though if that's anybody it'll be your Dad." He paused, taking in their surroundings. Neither of them had really had a set destination on leaving Zim's base, and they'd wandered near a park. Dib's face lit up. "Perfect, wide open space. Hey Mikko, did you want to start some training?"

"But there's no equipment around."

He grinned. "Equipment's optional. When you're fighting an Irken, the best thing to learn is how to be fast and light on your feet. It's how I'm still alive. Come on, let's see how fast you can run."

….

The second Dib and Mikko had turned the corner, Zim extended his spiderlegs, clambering up to the roof of his house, and vaulting onto the next roof. Catching himself on the false chimney, he continued onto the next one, aiming for the Membrane household.

_You're insane! What are you thinking! What are you doing? She'll kill you!_

He jerked back every thought before it could hit the PAK link anchor that connected him to Tallest Red, but he continued to think them as he scrabbled across the roofs of the neighborhood. Red was still his Tallest, and he still had to show him the respect his title inferred. _Even if he has completely lost his mind!_

He took a flying leap, grabbing the flagpole sticking out of one neighbor's lawn and shimmying down it. Across the street stood the Membrane house, a car just pulling up to the curb. The driver's door opened, a rather cramped figure spilling out of it unceremoniously. The figure straightened, and Zim's eyes narrowed. _The trash-hyuman-gardener? I walked right by him and didn't know?!_

Red walked around to the passenger door and opened it, allowing the passenger—Zim sputtered at the sight of Gloria—to exit. She barely turned, nodding a thanks, and hurried into the house as quickly as possible. Red stood there for a minute, holding the door of the car, before closing it, and turning to trudge away from the house.

In a flash, Zim had crossed the street and come up behind Red, demanding, "What in all Irk do—"

Spiderlegs shot out of the backpack, shredding the cloth instantly as they knocked Zim backwards. Red took one leap forward, spinning around into a defensive crouch, eyes narrowed.

 _Idiot._ Zim growled at himself. _You don't sneak up on a soldier._ He lay still where he was a moment, allowing Red to assess the situation and adjust.

When he heard the slow exhale, he rose to his feet, brushing off his pants.

"You should know better." Red grumbled, retracting the spiderlegs.

"And what about you?" Zim pointed at the door of the Membrane house. "What are you doing _here_ of all places? And what do you think you're doing?!"

Red strode over, grabbing Zim's shoulder and propelling him forward. "We can have this discussion farther from the house." He replied tersely.

Zim pulled away, keeping a steady pace as he and Red made for the edge of town, toward the forest where Zim had last left all their camping supplies and gear. "Have you been out there this whole time? You could have rented a Mow-tell or some other small shelter, I gave you a monies card!"

Red pulled it out, handing it back to Zim. "It wasn't needed. I only purchased necessary supplies. Besides, I still don't fit in fully with humans. She looked at me strangely a lot." He held up a hand to stop Zim's responses. "I'm not insane, I know what I'm doing."

"And what is that?" Zim spread his hands. "What possible reason would you even come near her again, with Gaz nearby and the risk of exposure, and what happened?"

"Gaz knows." Red's voice came out stilted, as if he was forcing them out. "It was an arrangement we made."

"Arrangement?" Zim asked, alarmed.

"She demanded to know what my plans were, to approve them if I was going to stay here for any length of time. I proposed that I…" He hesitated on the word, grimacing. "….sssssserve…. the human female….. until such time as I come into contact with the Armada and they retrieve me." He reached up, peeling out two violet contacts and rubbing his eyes. He pulled off the holographic patch, allowing the human façade to fade.

Zim stared up at Red, feeling sick in his spooch. A Tallest in survival mode, doing tasks to survive was one thing. But a Tallest deliberately placing himself in the position of a drone when it was not required was unheard of. It felt wrong, like seeing a dog sprout wings and fly, or a squirrel growing a second head.

"Has the other one, the female named Mikko, responded?" Red stepped into the camp clearing, sitting on a laser-trimmed stump near the firepit.

"Yes. She has accepted. Tomorrow at my base, with her parental units. And Dib."

Red flinched a little. "Why the Dib? He has nothing to do with the situation."

Zim blinked. "I'm not sure. I will ask her, but he promised he would be there."

Red pressed his claws to his temples. "If he has to be. Irk I am not looking forward to tomorrow."


	11. Meeting of Doom

"I will not be told that I can't hit him, Zim!"

Zim grabbed his own antennae, yanking in frustration. "You do not understand, Maneem! It is not a matter of whether you want to hit him or not, it is a matter of whether you would like for your planet to continue its peaceful spinning or not! It is punishable by death to lay hands on a Tallest. What we did, in going to rescue Mikko, was an act of war itself on behalf of your entire species. The only reason he did not order your planet destroyed was because he was eaten by a Morflar before he could have it ordered! And Tallest Purple was probably too afraid and scattered to initiate that order himself! Right now, he is attempting peaceful communication with you, but if any aggression is enacted, by Irken standards he has every right to bring the Armada crashing down on this planet."

"Is he in communication with them right now?" Della asked, arms crossed.

"No, he's trying to get ahold of them so they can remove him—"

"So I can hit him until he gets contact with them?"

Zim flailed his arms. "No! No you can't do that!"

"And if his intentions aren't so peaceable?" Tom asked, leaning against the wall by the TV. "What then, Zim?"

Zim turned away. "They are. They just are, Tom."

"What if?" Tom repeated, insistently.

"If they are," Zim snapped back, "I will personally assault my own Tallest so that the blame lies squarely on Zim and your precious planet keeps its normal course, but I can assure you with my life, which is EXACTLY what I am gambling, that he will do no such thing as what you are thinking he will do!"

Mikko walked over, grabbing Zim's shoulder and swinging him around, a dark look on her face. "Stop that. Stop doing that."

Zim blinked. "Doing what? What did I do?"

"Betting your life. Trading your life. You do it a lot, like it isn't worth anything."

Zim hesitated. "But… it's…. not…"

"Seriously, moron?" Dib perched on the arm of the couch, shaking his head. "How much is it gonna take to get it through that thick head of yours?"

"It's worth a lot to me." Mikko released his shoulder. "And everyone here. And you really need to stop doing that. There are other ways of getting things done than bartering your life away."

Zim scratched his head. He hadn't ever thought about it before. All he was ever good for as an Invader was using his life to the glory of serving and furthering the Empire. If an Invader was unable to do that, they lost all value. He'd found another cause to serve, protecting his new family—families—but the fact that they demanded as part of that service that he consider himself as valuable as they was a bit boggling. It just wasn't how it worked.

A soft knock at the door interrupted his thoughts, and he tensed.

"Alright, no hitting, no screaming, no threatening of lives," Zim ordered. "Dib, if that water pistol comes out of your trench coat, I'm going to shove it down your throat."

"How'd you know I had a—"

"You're Dib My-Middle-Name-Is-Annoying Membrane, I know you." Zim returned, marching for the door and opening it.

Red stepped into the room, disguise in place and eyes lowered. Zim could see him analyzing the room around him, finding the most defensible position. After locating it, he walked over to the corner farthest from any person in the room. Once Zim had shut the door, Red pulled off his contact lenses and removed his holographic patch.

Mikko shut her eyes, reaching out toward Dib, who took her hand. Della began her customary pacing. Zim had often observed this behavior in her when she wished to restrain herself from other, more violent tendencies. Tom, meanwhile, had left his position near the TV and moved closer to Red, stopping within five feet of him, and leaning against the wall again. His eyes settled on Red, and remained there, wary. Zim read battle Tom's entire posture, and even in his positioning. It was amateurish placement and could be easily countered, but Red remained where he was, antennae only a few degrees higher than the full submissive position.

An awkward silence settled over the group, each waiting for another person to speak. Red was the first to break the silence.

"I suppose there is no easy way to begin a conversation of this nature." He kept his eyes trained on the ground. "Except to say… that I regret the actions that were taken against you, and any damage you suffered, and to assure you that this issue will never occur again."

It took all Zim's self control not to mimic the human gesture he had come to learn called the Face-Palm, an expression of extreme disbelief.

"What kind of apology is that?" Dib blurted. "You sound like you broke her favorite dish or something, not kidnapped her and tried to rape her!"

"The Tallests do not give apologies very often, Dib." Zim responded harshly. "In fact, they never apologize. If you had to learn how to speak a phrase you'd never had to speak before, what would you do?"

Dib glared a little. "Research it, what does that have to do with…" He gaped at Red. "Was that something off a website or a book that you read?"

Red shifted uncomfortably. "Is he usually this observant and annoying?"

"Observant on occasion, annoying always." Zim sighed. "Dib, please, just let him try!"

"You can stop talking, Zim." Red lifted his head.

"Yes, I will stop."

"For the rest of this conversation. Don't speak. That's a command. I can handle this conversation on my own."

Zim opened his mouth, and shut it. He couldn't disobey a direct command. He caught Dib scowling at him, and groaned inwardly. Now was not the time for Dib to think he was under the Tallest's control. It wasn't that he was their slave, he just had newfound respect, admiration… and reverence… for Tallest Red. And he wished to display that in obedience, as far as it did not cause harm to his families.

"It is true, what he says." Red said haltingly. "I am unused to making amends, it has never been required of me, and as I was always correct according to everyone around me, there was no need. However… as it has come to my attention that certain… actions that I have taken have been extremely damaging, I am attempting to make things right."

"Does that include leaving forever and never coming back?" Della sniped.

"I have been attempting to contact any Irken patrol in range and alert them of my presence, but Earth is on the fringes of our mapping, and very few patrols, if any, venture this far."

"If that's true, how'd you know about Earth to begin with? You must have known about it if you ordered two abductions from it." Dib's eyes narrowed.

Red paused, a deep furrow settling between his eyes. Silence stretched out again, as he considered the question.

Recognition hit Zim with a jolt. He'd seen that odd confusion before, that expression when confronted by a misplaced piece of information. He'd seen it in DarkBooty. When statements he'd made hadn't made sense, when he'd had more knowledge about a situation than he ever should have had. He'd known in one moment that Dib was Zim's brother, and in the next looked bewildered over the same information. And all through the trial, DarkBooty had hardly lifted his head, but when he had, he'd stared around in confusion, as if he didn't understand what was going on, or why he was on trial.

"I… don't know…" Red admitted slowly. "It doesn't make sense… how I knew about it, and didn't know about it, but I do not know how the information came to me."

"That's lame." Dib muttered, but subsided as Mikko finally lifted her head to look at Red.

"Why did you choose me?" She asked quietly.

Red's eyes dropped back to the floor. "Because I knew from his memories you were precious to Zim. And at the time I wanted to cause him pain. That was all."

"And what about my Mom?" Dib snarled. "You gonna say that was to cause Zim pain too?"

Red's eyes narrowed, and he drew himself up to his full height. "Dib Membrane, the source of your anger is understood, however, this conversation is _not about you._ Nor is it about the hyuman female known as Gloria Membrane. It is about Mikko. Your silence is also required now."

"I'm not your subject!" Dib's hand slipped inside his trench coat, but was stopped by Mikko's response.

"No, but he's right. This is a different conversation than the one you're trying to have."

"And that conversation will be addressed in due time," Red added. "But not here, and not today."

Dib glowered, but pulled his hand back out from his coat.

Red turned back to Mikko, antennae lowering back to a less aggressive position. "As I was saying, I apologize. It should not have happened, under any circumstances, and I will ensure that nothing like this will ever occur toward any inhabitant of this planet again, once I return to the Massive. Records of Earth will be slowly expunged from our history and memory banks." He paused, that odd expression on his face again. "If they… are there at all… to begin with." He shook clear of the thought. "Do you have any further inquiries… or statements for me?"

Zim's spooch twisted slightly. _He wants her to make the guilt go away._

Mikko shook her head. "No. No questions." She sat there, quietly clutching Dib's hand.

Red watched her, silently, then bowed his head. Donning his patch and contact lenses, he turned and walked toward the door. As he passed through the door frame, Dib exploded off the couch.

"The gardener? THE GARDENER? Get back here you—" But by the time Dib had reached the door, Red was gone. Dib whipped around, homing in on Zim in rage. "You better start talking, Spaceboy. Tell me what that monster is doing as my Mom's gardener."

Zim pressed his claws to his temples. _As if this day wasn't hard enough…_


	12. Building Humility

The first punch was always the easiest to avoid. Dib tended to swing wild when he was really angry, and by the time he reached physical violence he was always really angry. Zim ducked to the side, considering trapping Dib's fist in a quick twist wristlock so he could explain, but he let it pass him by.

_Irk, it's been too long._

The second punch came swinging the opposite way, and Zim ducked under, letting it pass over his head before springing back a few feet, landing in a crouch. His face split into a grin as Dib started toward him.

"Stop it!" Mikko grabbed Dib's arm.

"No," Zim countered, "Let him go. I'm perfectly capable of handling myself, and Dib in a blind rage poses no threat at all."

Dib tore free of Mikko and charged Zim, slamming his fist into the wall where, moments before, Zim's head had been. Zim had sprung up and over Dib's head, whirling around to place a solid blow to the back of it. Dib dropped down, spinning his legs around to sweep Zim's feet out from under him.

Surprised, Zim hit the ground, rolling away, but stopped as Dib got a handful of orange shirt and yanked him back. The human's fist finally connected to the side of Zim's head, and his grin widened.

"Look at you!" Dib raged. "You're so caught up in fooling around you don't even care that you're letting that monster get near our Mom!"

Zim's grin vanished, and his eyes narrowed. He slammed his palms into Dib's shoulders, sending the boy sprawling backwards, and sat up.

"Do not mistake my time of relieving a good deal of stress by sparring with you as 'not caring,' fool. This day, this week, this last month has been rather taxing and I do miss sparring with you like we used to. So yes, I goaded you into it, but I have not forgotten why you were angry to begin with!" He spat, straightening his sleeves with a jerk. "In answer to the question you never bothered to ask, why is Red your gardener, he worked out the details with Gaz already."

Dib's eyes widened. "Gaz knows about this?"

"Yes." Zim continued straightening his long-sleeved shirt. "I took the liberty of hacking into Membrane Inc on a hunch. A monies amount is withdrawn weekly and paid out for 'Personal Help'."

"She's _paying_ him to be there? After all he's done?"

Zim stared at him a moment. "Are you still so dense that you consider what he's doing a privilege?"

"Yes, Zim! On this planet, having any kind of job is a good thing! Something honest, hardworking people need these days! Not something scum like Red should ever have! Especially not near my Mom!"

"Then you are looking at it from the wrong perspective." Zim snapped. "Because Red isn't from Earth. He is from Irk, where what he is doing would not be fit for an animal to perform. Only the most useless drones in our society perform such tasks as he is performing, and they perform it for less than half of what they would need to starve on from day to day. If he is getting paid _at all_ it means that Gaz understands how humiliating it is for a Tallest to do what he is doing and _she is digging the insult deeper._ " He turned away. "It is not a privilege for a Tallest. It is the gravest humiliation he could endure. And he chose it."

"What? You mean this wasn't Gaz's idea?"

"She wouldn't have come up with this, Dib. She would have had him as far away as possible. You saw what he did today. He's trying to make amends. But he knows no amount of words could ever amend for what occurred with Gloria. So he is not only placing himself in the most humiliating position a Tallest could be in, he is doing it in relation to someone who was a slave of Irk. There is no lower punishment he could devise for himself. If it was ever discovered, he would be known as the weakest and most laughable Tallest in all the history of Irk."

Dib considered this. "I still don't like it Zim," he said, but his voice was calmer. "I don't like him being near her."

"Then stay home more or something if you must, but this more than anything convinces me that he is not going to repeat his offenses."

"You really think he's changed that much?" Tom asked, troubled.

"Well Tom, how much time did it take your family to flip my world on its head?" Zim asked wryly. "This planet is filthy, stinky, and deadly, but one of its few astounding qualities is the ability of its inhabitants to wreak great change. Sometimes against one's natural instincts. Flirk, look at Gaz! Who ever heard of a Morflar letting a meal go, much less picking Irkens to interact with? It just doesn't happen anywhere else. My point is, yes. I think he's changed that much."

"What about when he goes back?" Mikko asked quietly.

Zim paused. "I don't know." He admitted. "If they know his emotional filter is broken, they'll force him to submit to a PAK exam and repair. As Tallest, he can refuse it, but all his future decisions will be called into question, and he will have less power and credibility than Purple. If he can avoid that accusation altogether, he should be alright."

Della pursed her lips, irritated. "You cure one's insanity, you gotta cure 'em all, is that it?"

Cracking a smile, Zim returned, "The real question is, are you up for the challenge?"

Della rolled her eyes. "Send us your mad, your crazed, your orphans. Sure, what the heck."

Zim grinned wider. "Might have to hold you to that promise someday." He glanced over to Mikko. "What are you doing over there?"

Mikko stuck a pen behind her ear, handing a folded piece of paper to Zim. "Just writing this. You'll know what to do with it."

Puzzled, Zim accepted it as Della sighed. "Well, I think that wraps up the meeting. Zim, be ready for us to come over tonight, okay?"

"Why are you coming over tonight?"

"You'll see, just be ready."

Zim shrugged. "As you wish."

"Hug for your Maneem?" She held out an arm.

Zim glanced over at Dib, who smirked at him. Zim mumbled, but sidled over, giving her a brief hug. As they filed out the door, Zim unfolded the paper, scanning over the contents. A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he re-folded it.

…

The next day, Red emerged from his tent to find a piece of paper pinned to the flap. On one side, it read, "Forgiven. Mikko." On the other, it read, "Just come stay at the base, there's supposed to be a thunderstorm this week. Zim."

Red turned it over again, re-reading the note from Mikko. With great care, he folded the note, tucking it into his PAK, and began breaking down the campsite.


	13. No One Can Hear You

im looked up from the TV as the doorbell quacked. Dib poked his head in first, making a face. "A duck, Zim? Really?"

"What, you think the mighty Zim would have a boring door-alarm system?"

"Oh, excuse me, I thought you were trying to be normal."

"Bah, normal is boring." Zim swung his feet down, standing as Della, Mikko, Tom, and Tiana filed into the room.

Della hefted a sack, grinning. "Welcome to your housewarming party."

"Again you say housewarming, but the base is not cold." Zim puzzled.

Dib smacked the back of his head. "Moron, it means they're having a party now that you've got your own place, to make you feel more at home."

Zim blinked, suddenly at the kitchen table. On his right sat Dib, and on his left Mikko, with Tiana and Tom at the far end. Della stood at the counter, making waffles for everyone.

"Waffles, Maneem?"

"Well Zim, we thought we'd remind you of your first few days with us. Remember, he wouldn't tell us why he wouldn't eat any of the food?"

Dib grinned. "Stubborn Zim."

Zim grinned a little. "How was I supposed to trust you hyuman smellies?"

"You don't." Came a voice from his left. He turned, and leapt from his seat, shrieking.

It was Mikko, or at least, her shape, her clothes, and her hair. But the face leering out at him was DarkBooty's.

"What makes you think anything you consider trustworthy actually is?" The form stood, slowly reaching an arm, stretching impossibly far across the kitchen to grab a knife. Zim backed up slowly.

_Ssssscrunch._

His spooch twisted as he turned around. Della stood at the sink, her back to him, washing dishes.

_Scruuuunch._

She turned, a pair of rubber kitchen gloves on her hands. Water slid off the gloves, dripping onto the floor. Spots of smoke rose from the floor where the drops hit, and faint wails of pain echoed off the walls.

Her face was DarkBooty's.

She reached out a rubber-gloved hand to him, but it was no longer water that covered the glove. Instead, it ran with green blood, splattering the floor and dripping from the offered appendage.

_Scruuunnnnnnch._

He looked around wildly. Dib. Tiana. Tom. All their faces were DarkBooty. The eyes were yellow and leering. Tiana held a pair of kitchen shears. Dib, a long, jagged scalpel.

Wires flew out from the walls of his house, seizing his wrists and ankles, lifting him up.

"GIR!" He screamed. "GIR, help me! Save your master!"

Tom merely lifted up a small head in one hand, topped by silver hair, cyan eyes staring dully. The other hand held up the body, lifeless without the head.

Zim choked. "GIR, no. Maneem! Dib, please, don't!"

Della walked right over to Zim, placing a rubber-gloved hand on his face. Her old-man face grinned with wicked delight as she leaned over, and whispered by his antennae, "See where all your trust has gotten you."

….

Irritation colored everything Tunaghost saw as she approached the obnoxiously colored base that was the Irken Invader's home now. It was bad enough the building looked like a first year architect and designer threw up on the plot of land, but yesterday she'd been shut out of what she understood to be a very important meeting.

She'd come to the door, fully expecting to be a part of the meeting with Tallest Red, only to see a note on the door in jagged lettering.

**FAMILY MEETING ONLY**

**NO DEAD FISH**

Fuming, she'd turned and left. Fine, he didn't want her to be there for the meeting? She'd wake him at the crack of dawn, and he WOULD explain SOME piece of technology to her. She was getting more and more pressure from the government, who kept reminding her of the terms of her release.

It wasn't even light yet, and she stormed through a murky glow to reach the front door. She knocked harshly on the wood, folding her arms.

Nothing.

She stood there a few moments, before knocking again. Had Zim left the TV on? Something loud was going on. She grabbed the doorknob, twisting. The door swung open, and she entered.

"Zim?" She called, irritably. "Zim, come on. We have to get to work, you promised the government you'd…" She paused. The TV was off, but the noise was still there. Louder, in fact. It sounded like screaming. It… sounded like…

She broke into a run, skidding into the kitchen. She could hear the screams rising up through the trash chute, and she remembered Zim expanding that area for them to get the control panel down to the lower levels. He'd said something about it normally being a one person transport, but that it could be reprogrammed.

She opened the lid, and saw a small lift hovering inside. Carefully, she stepped into the trash can. "Take me down." She ordered.

**How far down.**

She clutched her clipboard, eyes wide. He'd fixed his computer already? "To Zim."

The lift dropped, pulling her lower into the base-levels. The screaming grew louder as she dropped lower. They reached unbearable levels as she stopped in front of an opening. Stepping through, she glanced around.

It was a single room attached to the lift, with no other doors or hallways leading off. In one wall was a display, with some sort of diagram on it. Whatever it was had been given up on halfway through, and left there. On the other side of the room, a relatively simple bedframe. Wound up by the sheets, flailing desperately in the middle of the bed, was Zim.

The alien was clearly fighting off something horrific, his claws spastically digging into the mattress as his back toes raked the wall behind the bed. His pillow was scattered around him in little bits, and out of his mouth issued an inhuman wail.

Tunaghost stood, frozen. She'd known the alien had a difficult past, even traumatic, and that recent events had tested him sorely, but this—

"NOOOOOO MANEEM PLEAAAAAASE!" He sobbed, curling into a ball. "PLEEEEEASE!"

-This was too much. She was in over her head, clearly. She'd tell the government they needed to find someone else right away. Maybe a therapist. Someone specializing in post traumatic stress disorder would be best.

"WHY?" He railed, lashing out with his claws. "WHY? WHAT DID I DO WRONG? WHY?"

_I need to leave. I can't do anything. He's obviously still crazy, and there's nothing I can do about it. I know spells and magic, I don't know alien psychology._

"PLEASE STOP, MANEEM, STOP, IT HURTS! AUUUGH!" He screamed again, arching his back as his words degenerated into harsh curses. Tears streamed down his cheeks from eyes clenched shut.

 _Leave!_ She couldn't turn her feet. They wouldn't move. Why wouldn't they move?

"HELP ME!" He wailed, chest heaving. "HELP ME!"

_Nobody stopped what happened at the Eyeball. Not even me. Nobody cared. Nobody listened._

Her feet were moving, finally, but in the wrong direction. Toward the lift, she meant toward the lift! Instead, they brought her to Zim's bedside, where the alien wrestled with his nightmares in sweat-soaked sheets. She reached out, catching both hands by the wrists as they flailed midair.

"It's okay," She heard herself saying. "Zim, it's okay, they're not hurting you. Nobody's hurting you. Wake up."

His screams subsided into ragged sobs as he twisted, still afraid and locked in his dreams.

"Wake up!" She shook him. "It's not real! You can get out of this, you're not trapped. Wake up!" When his eyes still remained clenched, she drew back her hand and slapped him. "WAKE UP!"

His eyes flew open, and he took in the room in at a glance. She sighed in relief, releasing his hands and standing back. "You were having a nightmare. I came to talk about the control pan—"

The Irken launched at her. For a moment, it crossed her mind that she was going to die at the hand of a half-crazed nightmare-driven alien. In the next moment, his arms had closed around her middle, and his face was buried there as well. His shoulders shook as he cried, "Tell me they won't ever do it, tell me I'm safe with my family, please tell me there's someplace in the universe that doesn't want to hurt me, please."

Stunned, Tunaghost looked down at the top of his head. His antennae trembled, likely from the force of his emotions. Slowly she reached down, patting his back gently. "Zim… your family cares about you a lot, from what I've seen. They're not going to hurt you like that. I promise."

Zim clung to her for a moment more, before slumping, limp to the floor.

Tunaghost stared down at him, then tilted her head up to the ceiling in disbelief. "Really. He fainted. Well. That's great. Now what?"

"I suppose you start by telling me what a Swollen Eyeball agent is doing standing over the unconscious form of my offspring, who moments ago, I heard screaming." Came a dark voice from behind her.

Tunaghost turned in time to see Almighty Tallest Red step out from the lift, holding himself erect and tall, with a frigid expression on his face.

_Wonderful. This day just started. Could it get any worse?_


	14. Explain Yourself

"And I'm telling you he was screaming in his sleep, then he woke up and fainted again!"

 _Why is someone shouting?_ Zim's claws twitched, his eyes still closed.

"And what do you mean your offspring? What the hell haven't I been told?"

"I think it would be better, for now, if you kept your mouth shut." Zim's antennae perked at the sound of Red's voice. "We'll wait for him to come around before I decide whether or not to kill you where you stand."

_Wonderful. This is exactly what I wanted to wake up to._

Zim reached up, feeling around nearby, and grabbed the edge of his bed. Pulling himself up, he rubbed his eyes, opening them. "Someone asked for Zi—"

On one side of the room stood Tunaghost, a mix of fear and outrage on her face. On the other side, Red, his expression cold, aiming a laser at her head. He wouldn't miss this close.

"My Tallest what are you doing?" Zim gaped.

"This human, this Swollen Eyeball scum, was standing over you. You were unconscious on the floor." Red turned his head slightly toward Zim. "Would you care to explain?"

Zim blinked. "My Tallest, I only just woke, but Agent Tunaghost was the only Swollen Eyeball member who aided in my escape as much as possible, I do not believe she would have harmed me purposefully."

"That's what I said!" Tunaghost fumed. "And you didn't just wake up, you woke up, then you fainted, then you woke up again."

Frowning, Zim shook his head. "No, I would have remembered that."

Tunaghost stared at him. "Seriously?" She threw up her hands. "I swear you all need some kind of serious psychiatric help, all of you!"

Tallest Red refocused his laser. "Is that some form of insult?"

Tunaghost's fists clenched. "No. It means your minds are all screwed up, and need to be straightened out. I'm telling you, he was screaming in his sleep, I woke him up, and he fainted again."

Zim became very still. Quietly, he asked, "What was I screaming in my sleep?"

She glanced at him. "Something about your Maneem, and to stop hurting you."

"Irkens don't have nightmares." Red maintained, eyes narrowed.

"Defectives do." Zim murmured, clenching his hands in his lap. "I've had them off and on ever since I came to this planet. Usually only on bad days when something reminds me…" He groaned, slapping a hand to his forehead. "Maneem… she brought everyone over for a stupid housewarming party last night. She started cleaning dishes with… rubber gloves on."

Tunaghost glanced over to him. "Was it the sound?" She asked quietly. When he looked up, questioningly, she answered, "I saw. On the monitors."

He turned his head away. "Most likely."

Red lowered his laser. "Why is she here in the first place?" He demanded. "She isn't a part of either group you claim as your family."

Tunaghost crossed her arms. "I'm here on behalf of the government. Zim promised to explain some Irken technology in exchange for getting all his stuff back. I'm the one they sent over to have things explained."

Red whirled on Zim. "Is that true?" He demanded. "You're going to explain top secret Irken technology to the hyumans? That's treason!"

"Just add it to my record!" Zim snapped. He grimaced. "Apologies… I'm not going to explain them the weaponry, but there are plenty of things that they would use as conveniences that would satisfy their curiosity."

Shaking his head, Red replaced the laser in his PAK. "Not one weapon, Zim. If the planet is ever considered a threat to the Empire, you know what would happen."

"I know." Zim muttered, rubbing his face.

Red turned. "I'll program a room for myself when I get back." He stated. "I'm late for my… assignment."

Zim's antennae jolted up. "What time is it?" He turned to Tunaghost.

She glanced down at her watch. "It's eleven, why?"

"FLIRK, I'm late for my job!" He darted into the lift with Red, and it vanished upward.

Tunaghost stood there, stunned, before hurling her clipboard at the wall.

"He didn't tell me anything AGAIN!"

….

Gloria shifted her bag of painting supplies, uncomfortably. She'd been waiting on the porch for an hour. She'd only had Scar take her to the beach twice so far, but usually he would already be out in the yard, hard at work by now..

It was beginning to look promising. Yesterday, the hedges had been brought in, and he'd spent the whole day planting them along the sides of the yard. She'd offered him a glass of ice water, but he'd drawn back, stammering that he wasn't thirsty.

He was definitely an odd gardener. Never took his garden gloves off, not even when driving, and always wore a backpack. Didn't talk to her unless she asked him a question, and always seemed very intent on keeping his eyes to himself.

Perhaps it was this that made her slightly more comfortable thinking about driving somewhere with him now. He didn't pry, he didn't stare, and he didn't try to fill the silence with awkward chatter.

And he didn't offer condolences.

She'd stopped sorting mail from the mailbox after the tenth corporate template letter informing her of some company's regret over the loss of her husband, and how they would be happy to provide her some discount or another on their services in the future.

She didn't need their pity. She didn't want it. She wanted Ivan back, and it wasn't going to happen. And no coupon would stop that hurt.

Scar, on the other hand, hired by Membrane Inc. themselves, never said a word. He just quietly dug, planted, and revitalized the front yard. He took the trash out. He drove her where she wanted or needed to go. He cleaned up afterwards, and left. It struck her that she appreciated this, a great deal.

"Mrs. Membrane."

She started out of her thoughts, eyes focusing again. Scar stood at the steps, eyes fixed on her feet. "You've been waiting. Apologies. There was an issue at my… home… which needed to be resolved. You wish to be escorted to the beach again?"

Gloria twisted the straps of her bag a little. The last few days at the beach had been wonderful, but there's somewhere she had missed going. Somewhere she had avoided thinking of for awhile, but somewhere she felt she was ready to face.

"Not today, Scar. I'd like to go to the Scourge Cliffs."

Scar frowned slightly. "The… I am not familiar with them."

"I have a map." She pulled out a wrinkled, yellow map. "It's about an hour's drive, I think I can make the top in time to see the sunset."

Scar's eyes jolted upward. "The… the top?!"


	15. Scourge Cliffs

Gloria stood at the foot of the Scourge Cliffs, wringing the handle of her canvas bag as she stared up. It was a lot taller than she remembered it being. A lot steeper too. Had she really climbed this cliff before?

"Mrs. Membrane are you sure you're capable of this?" Scar stood a ways behind her, staring up incredulously. "It's a difficult climb, even for someone who's been trained."

_"Do we have to climb this one? There's a smaller one a mile off."_

A small flare of pride lit in her chest, and the corner of her mouth lifted. That was what she needed. "No need to follow if you can't keep up." She slung the canvas back over her shoulder and kicked off her shoes. Braiding her hair back tightly, she reached up, gripping the first crevice in the cliff.

Hand over hand, it came back to her. She began reaching for nooks without looking, and finding crannies by feel. Most of them were still there, even so many years later.

However, it wasn't too long before the burn set into her muscles, and her climb slowed. She glanced down, dismayed to find she was only a third of the way up the cliff. Down below, Scar stood stoically, staring up at her. She faced upward again. The burn usually didn't set in until the last third of the climb, if at all.

_It's been so long._

After a couple more minutes, she fumbled a handhold, sending rocks skittering down the cliff face. She clung there for a few moments, drawing in deep breaths, before reaching again. Alarmed, she realized her arm was trembling, and there was a pain in her right leg.

_I never used to cramp. Why is this happening?_

_You're climbing a cliff face for the first time in over a decade, and you're asking why this is happening?_

_"Let's think this through, Gloria, someone could get hurt!"_

She shook her head free of the thoughts and memories. She would make it to the top. She'd done it before, she could do it again. She pushed off, reaching up for another handhold.

Her toes slipped, her fingers barely jamming into a crevice before her legs swung away, dangling her off the cliff face. Her face contorted into a grim mask of concentration and effort. If she wasn't careful, this could be it. Maybe if she could just get to the ledge, a little to the right—

An arm encircled her waist, easing pressure from her arms. Twisting her head, she glanced over in shock. Scar gripped the cliff face with one arm, the other anchoring her firmly in place, and shifting her weight to a more manageable position. Her fingers dug into the crevice at the feeling of being touched, but letting panic get the best of her, splayed out on a rock face, would just make things worse.

"How?" She panted, finding a better hold.

"I'm a fast climber." He answered shortly. "You have a hold?" She nodded., and he removed his arm. "Good. We're halfway up. May as well get to the top."

She looked upward again.

_Only halfway… in this state, I'll never make it. This was a lousy idea. We could have driven to the top._

"Is this so very important to you, that you reach the top?"

Again, she turned to face Scar. He didn't often look at her face, but when he did, it was always very intently, as if studying it for some answer.

"Yes." She felt the trembling start working its way up her arms.

Scar nodded. "Then we will get to the top." He paused. "You will need help to get to the top."

She felt a mild panic flutter in her stomach. He was asking to touch her. It was phrased in a statement, a necessity, but she could hear the request.

_I can't make it up myself._

Bracing herself, she nodded. "Yes. I will."

She felt his arm wrap around her waist again, and reached up for the next handhold.

It continued this way for what felt like hours, as she pulled herself up, her weight supported by Scar. She wondered how he kept them both up, but every time she tried to turn her head, he would remind her that they needed to keep moving.

By the time they reached the top, she could barely move. She grabbed onto the edge and scrabbled at the ground, as Scar pushed her up over the edge. She rolled over onto her back, staring up at the sky, limbs limp and useless. She was exhausted, and she knew she would feel this for days, and yet a thrill ran through her at the same time.

"We made it." She wheezed.

Arms carefully lifted her to a sitting position, and one reached into her canvas bag, withdrawing a water bottle and handing it to her. Shakily, she lifted it to her mouth, gulping.

"What is so special about this place to you?" Scar asked quietly.

Gloria set the bottle down, wiping her mouth on her sleeve as she considered whether or not to answer the question. The consideration was a short one. He'd just helped her reach the top, and kept her from serious injury.

"I used to climb Scourge Cliffs all the time." She said quietly. "And it was where Ivan… Professor Membrane… and I had our first date. I challenged him to a climb. He'd never done it before… he was petrified, but he did it." She laughed a little. "The next day he invented anti-gravity boots so he'd never have to climb again." She looked down at her canvas bag. "I thought maybe I could finish it today…" She held up an arm, staring at it. "Shaking too much… I won't be able to hold a brush."

Scar shifted a little, glancing at the position of the late-afternoon sun. "Perhaps a short rest? And then you could continue what you wanted?"

Gloria nodded, hardly even thinking as she lay down on her side. "Just a little while." Her eyes closed, and she drifted into a memory-rich dream.


	16. Distress Signals

Tunaghost fumed as the lift brought her back to the house level. If she had to tie Zim to a chair, she _would_ get information from him the next time she saw him, nightmares or not. In fact, she decided, she would just sit right where she was. She wasn't leaving his base until she had _something_ to report, and if he didn't like it, too bad.

She stalked out to the living room, plopping down on the couch. Her blank clipboard mocked her, and she threw it across the room a second time for good measure. Crossing her arms, she hunched her shoulders, glaring daggers at the blank TV screen in front of her.

_Screw the whole Irken race, they're obnoxious, irritating, overblown little insects._

_Crying?_

_So what if we learn how to toast bread more efficiently, or clean carpets in a few seconds? What are we going to learn from the Irkens that we wouldn't figure out ourselves in a couple years?_

_Crying._

_Dead fish my foot, he doesn't even give a rip. I did what I could to help him, and he won't even return the favor._

_Somebody's crying._

Tunaghost blinked out of her fury, glancing to the other end of the couch. She'd been so caught up in her anger, she hadn't even noticed the other occupant. A young boy with silver hair, he looked to be about seven or eight. He was curled up on the far end of the couch, shaking, a couch cushion pressed against his face.

"Kid?" Ghost looked around, before turning back to him. "I don't know what you're doing here, but I'm pretty sure Zim really doesn't like kids. Except for his sisters. So, however you got in here, you probably want to go."

The boy lifted his head, cyan eyes rimmed red from crying. He sniffed, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "S'okay, I'm Mastah Zim's SIR."

Tunaghost started. She remembered those eyes, and that high-pitched voice. The one that would not shut up when they caught him for the purpose of baiting Zim seven years ago. She'd been little more than a magic researcher at that point, and only walked by for a few minutes, but even then she remembered the insane chatter and boisterous laughter of the small robot.

"How are you a little boy?" she gaped. "You were a robot!"

"Still am." He poked himself gingerly. "I think. Got a better disguise."

"Disguise?" She reached over, pinching him.

"Ow!" He pulled back. "What'd you do that for?"

"That's not a disguise, disguises don't feel pain!"

"Is too!" he insisted. "It's th' best disguise ever cause it's real." He crossed his arms sullenly.

Tunaghost stared at him. Definitely more coherent than the last time she'd seen him. And more upset.

"What's your name?" She asked.

"I's GIR." He mumbled.

"You seem pretty upset… what's wrong?"

GIR turned his head away, his response shaky. "Mastah Zim screamed 'gain."

Tunaghost sat upright. "Again? What are you talking about?"

GIR rocked a little. "Mastah Zim screams 'most every night."

Tunaghost digested this piece of information a moment. "So… the nightmares happen a lot."

"Used ta happen only sometimes in th' other house. I visits only sometimes cause I got screamed at by li'l girls an' bigman gets mad when that happens."  
"Bigman… Tom?"

"Bigman. I came in, an' Mastah was screamin', but he had ducktape on 'is face to stop the sounds. I waked him, an' he pulled it off, an' tol' me, GIR don' do that again, don' wake me 'less it's real important." GIR squeezed the cushion to his chest. "So I don't waked him. But it's all'a time now since we got him outta th' ground. All nights. He stopped usin' ducktape when he got here, an' it's loud screams every night." His eyes welled up with tears. "I can't make-it stop Ghosty. I can't make 'im better. Mastah's scared, an' it's all wrong."

Tunaghost sat there, awkwardly. She didn't question the nickname, the bot had probably heard Zim talking about her. But what was she supposed to do? Zim had been having nightmares every single night since returning from the Swollen Eyeball? It made sense, but what could she do about it? The Irken needed a psychiatrist, and she wasn't qualified.

 _Maybe he doesn't need a psychiatrist. Maybe he needs…_ She snapped her fingers, pulling out her cellphone. "Don't worry GIR. I know what'll help." She paused, glancing up. "But if I help Zim…" she said slowly. "Will you show me around the base? Maybe… explain a few things to me, and how they work?"

GIR bolted upright, a huge smile on his face. "You does that, GIR shows you EVERYTHING!"

Tunaghost grinned, hitting the dial button. "Done."

…

Anxiety was not a feeling Tallest Red enjoyed. Not that most of these new emotions were enjoyable, but anxiety in particular was uncomfortable, and he found his increasing the lower the sun dropped.

_She'll come looking._

Red took several steps back from Gloria, holding himself rigid, and looking around. As far as he knew, Gaz wasn't even aware that he'd been escorting Gloria to the beach, much less this cliff, but if the woman didn't _wake up_ and _soon_ that was going to change shortly.

He still couldn't comprehend it. Why would she climb a sheer cliff for a memory? And if she had been telling the truth, she'd been able to scale this cliff before her abduction? Perhaps that explained the trouble his guards had had subduing her for the first year, and why she put up a fight every time when…

He tore his thoughts away from those times, closing his eyes. She was an inferior species, but she had shown more endurance and courage than he was capable of. The fact that she had even tried to climb this cliff as she used to, he realized, was a sign of picking her life back up and attempting to move on.

_She's much stronger than I initially gave her credit for._

He'd hardly even thought when he saw her slip. His spiderlegs slid out and he scaled the distance in seconds to catch her. The speed of his reaction shocked him, and the level of anxiety that fueled it was troubling. Why was he so worried about her falling?

_I owe her so much already._

He dipped his head. That was it. He was in debt to her, in a way he couldn't ever repay, and he was just providing service for that debt.

The temperature around him dropped by several degrees. In spite of himself, he dropped to the ground, clutching his head as he hunched over.

_Did you touch my mother?!_

"Only to catch her and pull her up, I swear!" He rattled against the ground, trying to keep his mind together. "She would have fallen!"

_What are you both doing here?_

"She wanted to go to the cliffs, something about a first meeting with her mate." He didn't dare open his eyes to see what she looked like. "She wanted to climb, I only took her where she wanted to go."

There was silence, and the temperature returned to normal. Slowly, he opened an eye. Gaz crouched over Gloria, inspecting her carefully. She stood, turning back to Red, an unreadable expression on her little girl face. "Doesn't look like you're lying, lucky for you. I'll take her home now. You can walk." Gently, she billowed out, passing over Gloria, and vanishing.

All that remained was Gloria's canvas bag, and a small patch of matted grass.

Red exhaled slowly, sitting up. He'd have to return the bag the next day, when he continued work on the garden. It would only be a few more days. He'd had to research the optimal plantlife for both endurance in this area, and aesthetic value to the locals, but he was fairly sure the outcome would be enjoyable. As long as he didn't—

He tilted his head back, eyes wide. Something in his PAK was buzzing. Something he'd been listening for every night as he sent out distress calls.

It was the Massive. It was barely in range.

On the top of the cliffs, he directed the hardest distress signal he could toward the Massive, and crossed his legs, determined to wait. This could be his only chance to direct them to his location, and he wasn't going to miss it.


	17. Removed From Service

Zim cradled his wrist gently, scowling at the glove compartment of Tom's car. Tom hadn't said a word, but he didn't have to, Zim was already kicking himself five different ways.

_"So what, you just take off for two weeks and you just get to come back, just like that? Some bug-eyed lizard gets to break the rules us normal people get slammed for bending a little?"_

"If I were to ever take over the world at this point," Zim muttered, "I think I'd outlaw the name John. I don't like it."

_"Don't you give me that look, you space insect. You wanna start something? C'mon, try!"_

Tom chuckled. "I don't particularly like it myself right now."

_"Just cause you got a lucky punch in last time doesn't mean anything. C'mon! Show me what you got! Coward!"_

"Go ahead." Zim sighed. "Say something. I know you want to."

Tom shrugged. "Think you've probably got all that covered already."

"He laid hands on me, Tom." Zim stared at the dash. "He touched me first. I was trying to ignore him like you always do. But he was threatening, and he touched me."

Tom sighed. "Zim, what happened to you… it was terrible. And nobody is going to understand how terrible, except maybe you and Tiana. But you can't let the memories rule your reactions. Look what happened the first time you let that happen. You're the one always telling us how it drove you insane."

"I know." Zim mumbled, antennae drooping with further shame.

"I can try and talk to the owner, let him know why you were really gone… he might understand a little more why you attacked his son and take you back."

Zim shook his head. "No. I was justly removed from service for my actions. You're right, Tom. I shouldn't have done that." He rotated his wrist carefully.

"That gonna be okay?"

"Yes. In a couple hours, my PAK will have healed it. No trouble." He rested his head against the window. "I just have to find new employment now."

Tom was silent, keeping his eyes on the road. Zim realized the difficulty in obtaining such a job now, and that he'd made it worse. It was hard enough that he was an alien, and that most humans didn't trust him, but if word hadn't already hit the news that he'd been fired over getting into a second fistfight, John would be sure of it. As soon as he recovered from his broken nose and had his teeth replaced.

Tom pulled up to Zim's base, unlocking the doors. Zim stepped out, turning. "Thank you for driving me back."

Tom nodded. "No trouble. Let's catch a game soon."

Zim's mouth quirked. "I still don't understand the purpose of the pig-skinned projectile."

"Yeah, you haven't the last five times. Let's see if you get it next time."

Zim shook his head. "Always so hopeful." He closed the door, raising a hand in farewell, and turned to trudge back to his base.

The sun was setting, he noted. Red should be returning from his work at Mrs. Membrane's soon, if he hadn't already. Zim felt the weariness setting in as he walked through his door, shutting it behind him. His body felt fine, but he couldn't shake a deep tiredness that crept over him whenever he was alone.

His feet took him over to the couch, pivoting him into position to sit. He laid his head back against the cushions.

_A few minutes rest. It'll be good for me. Then I'll get to work on… something. I won't sleep, I'll just rest. Just a little…_

…

_Why is someone screaming, someone is always screaming while I'm trying to sleep._

_I'm screaming again, aren't I? Why am I still screaming, the dream is over._

_Someone is here…_

Zim's eyes flew open, his claws tangled in some sort of fabric, his wrists restrained. Who was holding him down? He had to get away!

Not down… he wasn't being held down. His mind began catching up with his senses. He was being held… against… something… held against something warm and soft. His breathing began to slow a little, his cries quieting to whimpers. He felt something running over his antennae, gently, and some voice… he focused on the voice, directing his mind to piece together its familiar cadence.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word, Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that hummingbird don't sing, Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring."

_Maneem._

_The words make no sense._

_It doesn't matter. It's a children's song, used to chase fear, that is the intent. Not the words._

Zim uncurled his claws from the fabric—Della's long-sleeved shirt—and relaxed his claws to show her he wasn't fighting anymore. As he did, she released his wrists, arms still wrapped around him.

"Why are you here?" He asked, tiredly. "You weren't supposed to see this."

"Agent Tunaghost called." Della said quietly. "Said GIR told her this has been going on for awhile. Thought it might help if your sisters and I took shifts being here when you sleep for a few days, at least."

_Curse her. I'd be more grateful if this wasn't HER idea. Now I have to show some sort of gratitude. Curse her. Curse her. Curse her._

"Why didn't you ever tell us you had night terrors, Zim?"

Zim hesitated.

"Still stubbornly hanging on to that pride?"

Zim mumbled, "There isn't a lot left, I have to take it where I can find it."

Della squeezed him gently. "Zim, family is supposed to be the people you feel safest with, and you don't have to have any pride around, cause you don't have to impress them. They love you anyway."

Zim closed his eyes again a moment. He knew this by now, but every time he heard it, he believed it just a little bit more.

His antennae lifted at the sound of pounding feet. Someone was running toward his base. He sat up, turning toward the door. It flew open, and an undisguised Red tumbled in. He sprang up from the floor, shaking "Zim, there's trouble, big trouble, we have to fix it now!" He spun to Della, jabbing a pointed claw in her direction. "You, get out."

Della stood, her shoulders pushing upward as she growled, "Listen, you may be ruler or emporer or whatever on your planet but here—"

Red turned on Zim, jabbing a claw still at Della. "Order her to leave NOW Zim! I have to speak to you alone! That's a command!"

Zim's antennae fell back in the submissive posture and he turned to Della. "Maneem, I'll explain everything as soon as—"

"No! No explaining later!" Red blurted. "Just leave! Now!"

"I—"

"Go, Maneem." Zim gestured at the door, keeping his eyes on Red. "Please."

She stood there a moment longer, glaring up at Tallest Red, before turning to stomp out into the evening.

Once her footsteps died away, Red turned to Zim, grabbing his own antennae in an uncharacteristic display of anxiety.

"Zim, it's gone wrong, it's gone wrong! They're coming to get me, and it's gone wrong!"

"Coming to get, what? My Tallest, calm—"

"The Armada is coming to get me, Zim!" Red shouted, yanking his antennae. "In just a few days! And they're going to blow up the planet as soon as I'm off!"


	18. To Your Posts

_This isn't happening._

Red was shaking him. He couldn't quite make out the words Red was saying, he could only see his mouth moving.

Red's hand cracked across his face, jarring Zim free of his shock. Words began making sense again.

"Zim! Snap out of it! Now! We have to figure something out!"

Zim jerked free, staring up at Red. "What did you do?" He demanded. "What did you say to them?"

Red threw his arms in the air. "I told them I was on Earth, that they had to come pick me up!"

"How did they leap to blowing up the planet? Can't you tell them to stop?" Zim demanded.

"They said any planet strong enough to hold a Tallest against his will for this long had to be eradicated. I told them this was the first chance I'd had to contact them, and that the planet was no threat, that they were not to destroy it."

"And?"

Red groaned. "They said the urgency of my distress signal said otherwise. They said that in order to countermand the order to destroy Earth, Control Brains are mandating a full PAK exam to ensure I haven't been compromised. If I deny them the PAK exam, they will still take me, and destroy the planet afterwards." He put his hands to his face. "If I submit to the PAK exam… they will destroy this place, and reset my PAK… and I am lost again."

Zim's mind buzzed, searching for solutions. It couldn't end this way!

"Resign!"

"What?"

"Resign your position as Tallest!" Zim grasped a thread of hope. "Purple—Tallest Purple—is still a Tallest, if you resign, the Empire has no need to retrieve you and destroy this place!"

"That would work, Zim," Red's voice cracked. "If Purple wasn't dead."

Zim's heart thudded to a stop. "What?"

"They found him in his quarters with a blaster in his mouth and half a head. They've been drifting leaderless for a year now. They've kept up the mirage that he's alive to the people as they search for a new Tallest, but we were supposed to be Tallests for a long time… there aren't any even remotely tall enough to qualify right now." He buried his face in his hands. "They won't accept a resignation."

Zim's claws began trembling. "We… we can give the hyumans defensive measures. Some sort of shielding, or a laser to fire back."

Red laughed bitterly. "THINK Zim. Even if we could build a viable weapons and defense system for an entire planet between the two of us in time it would take them to get here—which we CAN'T—it would only serve to prove that this planet is a threat."

Zim racked his mind. "Ships! Ships to get off-world. We can't save them all, but we can save some!"

"A few DAYS, Zim!" Red shouted. "Unless you want a ship to fall apart half-way out of orbit, it takes time to properly build and quality test a ship, even for us, much less them!"

Something in Zim snapped. "I HAVE NOT LIVED ON THIS ROCK FOR THIS LONG AND MADE IT MY HOME JUST TO SEE IT SNATCHED AWAY!" He roared. "THE EMPIRE TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME, THEY ARE NOT TAKING THIS TOO!" He jabbed a claw at Red, who took a step back. "YOU WILL SEARCH OUR TREATY SYSTEM AND SEE WHAT CAN BE DONE! I AM BUILDING A SHIP IF I HAVE TO WORK MY SYSTEM TO DEATH FOR IT, ONE THAT'S LARGE ENOUGH TO HOLD EVERYONE WHO MADE MY EXISTENCE WORTHWHILE HERE! I WILL NOT SEE EVERYTHING REDUCED TO ASH! THAT IS NOT AN OPTION!"

Red stared at him. It registered, faintly in Zim's mind, that he had just given orders to the Tallest, but he didn't care.

Silence ticked by, with neither figure moving.

"You know the route all of our treaties go, Zim." Red's voice was quieter. "The Vortians fell to us because of a loophole in the treaty they signed. The Planet Jackers are already on our radar by the time you began coming with your assassination attempts. We'd already analyzed their societal weaknesses, and were preparing to overrun them. Every treaty is just another long-term invasion plan."

"LOOK. ANYWAY." Zim hissed. "Look for something, anything. Look through old and new treaties, find a way of making such a pact with this planet that it will ensure its survival through the next hundred thousand years."

"Longer than that would be nice, you know."

Zim's head snapped around. Tunaghost stood in the doorway of the kitchen, leaning on the frame. Her face was pale, but her mouth pressed in a determined line.

"You guys are really loud, you know that?" Came another voice from the window, turning Red's head. "I could hear you from the street. Is that a general thing with Irkens? Being loud and obnoxious and destructive?" Dib swung a leg over the window's lip, dropping inside.

It took half a second for Red's laser to arm and aim at Dib's head. "They know, they can't be allowed to spread word."

Dib's arm came up, the palm facing Red's face, glowing. "Try me. I dare you. Mikko's forgiven you, doesn't mean I have."

"Stop!" Zim flailed. "Killing the hyumans isn't going to accomplish anything in this situation, and killing Tallest Red will most certainly doom you all! DROP THE WEAPONS!"

Reluctantly, Red lowered his laser. Dib's palm stopped glowing, as he dropped his arm.

"New gadgets in the arm, huh?" Zim glowered.

Dib shrugged. "Comes in handy."

"The joke is not funny."

"Was to me."

"I really hate to interrupt your bonding time," Tunaghost blurted, "But don't we have a bigger issue to address?"

Dib turned to Zim, soberly. "So. There's nothing to be done, then? They're coming?"

Zim turned away from Dib. "Yes. They're coming. There's almost nothing we can do. But we can start looking into a few scant possibilities. R—Tallest Red will look into Irken treaties and laws, and I will… try to build a ship…"

"Zim," Dib walked over, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You know… if the treaty ends up with humans in slavery, most people prefer destruction?"

Zim knocked his arm off, eyes glinting. "Don't say that. Don't you DARE say that. Even if you are enslaved, you are alive, and there is a chance to fight back." He paused, turning to Dib. "You were telling me that just the other week about the situation _I_ thought was impossible…"

Dib grinned slightly. "Just seeing if you're catching on yet." He stretched. "Okay Spaceboy, what's first?"

Zim turned, pacing a bit. "I need access to supplies. Not all my equipment would be enough to build a spaceworthy craft. I need a place to work without interruption. I need help, lots of hands."

Dib stuck his hands in his pockets, head down. "There's this place I know." He said softly. "Major position just opened up. They're kinda scrambling for someone to fill it, actually. Lot of tech and lots of help."

"Yes?" Zim asked, antennae perking.

Tunaghost sucked in a breath. "Mothman, are you serious?"

Dib continued, as if she hadn't spoken. "The sole stockholder currently isn't even taking mail from the company, and doesn't know the situation it's in, but it's failing fast without a new inventor."

Zim's eyes bulged a little. "Dib…"

"They want me to fill in. But you know me." He looked up, a weak smile on his face. "I always did disappoint him in the real science department. I'd rather chase aliens and ghosts any day. But you like that stuff, Zim. And if we end up lasting through the week… you'd be set for life here. So what do you say. Head inventor for Membrane Inc?"

"I say… with his resources it's possible we could save at least a portion of hyumanity if things fall through," Zim affirmed. "But I need your help, Dib. You know they won't listen to me right off. I need you to help rally them."

"You've got it, Spaceboy."

He turned to Tunaghost. "And you, you cannot tell the governments this. You can tell them that Zim will be making for them the technologies they want, but not about the Armada." He raised a hand to stop her protest. "Tunaghost there is literally nothing they can do against the Armada. You have to believe me. They have weapons that could wipe a planet of all life in seconds. If they are going to die…" He paused, remembering the feeling of holding Tiana's life in his hands. "It is better they don't know."

Tunaghost's eyes narrowed. "So that's it, I'm still just reporting? The four of us are the only ones that know the planet is in danger, and that's all I get to do?"

Zim blinked. "What else can you do?"

"He doesn't mean you can't do anything," Dib interjected hastily. "He's really asking what else you can do."

Ghost subsided some. "Magic is my main specialty, most forms of it. I have a fairly good knowledge of minor and medium levels of magic, and one or two larger forms."

"What is magic?" Tallest Red frowned. "What can it do?"

"Some people say it's just abilities and technology we haven't found a way to explain or fully control." Dib mused.

"Certain words, gestures, and formulas bring about certain desired results," Ghost added. "Depending on the experience and intent of the user."

Red took a step toward her, an intent expression on his face. "Can it guide memory?"

She took a step back. "There are certain spells and trances that can do that." She replied warily.

Red pointed a claw at her. "In that case I require your assistance, and your assignment is now with me. I have datastreams the size of planets to comb through, and I need help targeting my information."

"Looks like we all have our assignments." Dib tilted his head. "Zim, let's head on over. We've got work to do."


	19. Bursting Into Life

_Treaty with Hn'orgath. Terms of peace to last five hundred cycles. Conquered in five._

_Treaty with Jlrtns. Terms of peace to last 780 cycles. Exterminated in two._

_Treaty with Aedopetua. Terms of peace to last 470 cycles. Enslaved in three. Uprising crushed in fifth cycle, and genocide carried out by sixth._

Red's head spun with the information passing through his PAK. As Tallest, not a single record was barred to him, and now that he was in range of the Massive, all of Irk's history spread out before his eyes upon request. Not one treaty in the history of Irk had been kept, not one single pledge held for longer than half a century in the records. Everywhere he turned was a trail of broken promises and enslaved or obliterated species. There was no precedent for a lasting arrangement with any world or galactic government.

_But why?_

_"Mens locus focus concessit. Quaerere pro responsum quod adducam nobis pacem."_

He felt his thoughts being drawn away from the question and back to the datastreams. Agent Tunaghost's voice felt like a prod, gently pushing his mind back where it needed to point. Or was that magic? He didn't know, but it must be working.

"Red."

He started, his eyes focusing as he glanced up at Tunaghost. She looked worn. "You've been sitting there, staring at nothing for six hours. Have you found anything?"

He blinked. "Six… hours? But… that was… over three hundred years of treaties." He stared at her. "What is this _magic_?"

"I don't have the faculties to explain it right now." She stood, weaving a little. "I'm tired. I can't think straight. I think I almost called power surge to your PAK by accident. It's dangerous to speak ancient words when you can't even think straight."

"But you will be back?" He stood as well. "There is very little time!"

"Yes. I will be back. But on a full night's rest. If I damage the circuits, no good will come of this anyway." She lifted a hand. "I'll be back in ten hours. Make sure you get some rest yourself. If Zim is any indication, your kind still sleeps, so you need some."

Red checked his internal clock, and cursed. He had no time for sleep. He had to be at the Membrane house in less than an hour. The majority of the garden work was to be completed this morning.

_Is that really important? You have to find a way out of this, before they find out what really happened here!_

He swatted the thought aside. He couldn't get through nearly as much information without the help of the magic-hyuman. He knew that now. He would have to wait for her to recharge. In the meantime, it was time to see if the plant growth formulas he'd gotten his hands on did what he thought they would.

….

Gloria stirred, sitting up. She blinked, disoriented. Where was she… _My room? Why here, I was just…_ her mind flashed to Scourge Cliffs. She'd fallen asleep at the top… now here? Had Scar carried her? He couldn't have carried her all that way. If she'd fallen asleep long enough, she probably worried Gaz… who would have come looking for her.

She swung her legs out of bed, standing. She paused a moment. Nothing felt sore. In spite of the strain of the previous day, all her muscles felt fine.

A hard knot formed in the pit of her stomach. She walked over to the door and twisted the knob harder than necessary, leaving her room to descend to the first floor. She could smell food burning, and directed her steps toward the kitchen.

Gaz looked up, the corners of her mouth slightly higher than they usually were, her eyes open a little more. "I think I burned it again… I don't know how to make it yet."

Gloria stared down at her, and Gaz wilted a little. Reaching over to turn off the stove, Gloria asked, quietly, "You brought me home?"

Gaz nodded slowly.

"I'm not sore."

Gaz shifted.

"I climbed a cliff face for the first time in years and I'm not sore the day after."

Gaz turned away, rummaging through a drawer.

"What happened?"

Gaz mumbled, "I may have stolen some nanbots from Zim's place…"

_Needles. Always in the wrists and arms, injecting her. Cleaning her system of the remnants from the last pregnancy, forcibly flushing hormones from her system, resetting her body to prepare her to bear another child, another specimen for them to rip away and kill._

"No." Gloria took a deep breath, steadying herself against the counter. "Gaz… don't ever use them on me again. I don't want…" She took another breath. "I don't want anything to do with Irkens, or Irken technology. My eyes… I am grateful. And Zim is the exception. But nothing else, Gaz. Nothing."

Gaz lowered her eyes to the ground, hair hiding her face. "I'm sorry Mom. I didn't mean anything."

Gloria reached out, pulling Gaz into a hug. "I know Gaz. I'm sorry. I just can't. I won't." She released Gaz, and turned to see what she could make of the breakfast. A thought occurred to her, and she lifted her head. "Gaz, would you call Zim's home? Maybe… he might join us for breakfast?"

Gaz shook her head. "Dib came by today. Said he and Zim were going to Dad's labs to build something big, that it was really important."

Gloria's shoulders slumped. "Oh."

Gaz peered up. "However, I'm sure he'd be more than happy to join you at the Cliffs, if you want to go climbing today."

Gloria considered. "Do you think he'd climb with me? We might get a chance to talk… more…" She stared at the pot of charred oatmeal. _How do I even talk to him though?_

"I know he will." Gaz said darkly. At Gloria's curious expression, she forced a smile. "He'd… love to go… climbing… does it all the time."

Gloria smiled. "Alright then, I'll meet him at the cliff base. Can you tell him?"

"Gladly." Gaz swept out of the kitchen, vanishing around the corner.

"This will be good," she told herself. "I'll ask him questions, and get to know him, like I should have been."

_You still flinch on sight of him._

"I can change that." She said sharply, dumping the charred oatmeal into the sink. "We'll start over." She felt her breathing accelerate again. Air, air was what she needed. That would be good. She crossed over to the front door and pulled it open.

She stood in the doorway, frozen. She'd known Scar had planned to renovate the front yard, but this…

Three trees in the front yard, two on the right, one on the left. The hedges had somehow bloomed overnight, and thick vines of nightblooming jasmine crawled the trunk of every tree, giving off a heady fragrance. The grass was peppered with wildflowers, and one or two rosebushes stuck out in odd places on the lawn.

She stepped down, slowly, walking over to the lone tree on the left. Gathering a handful of the jasmine, she pressed it against her nose, overwhelming her senses with the smell. She threaded a strand behind her ear. Grasping a branch, she swung around to the other side, nearly falling over Scar.

She caught herself, barely. The gardener had fallen asleep in the shade of the new tree, garden tools still in hand. He lay curled up on his side, mouth open.

She smiled. Whatever they were paying him, it wasn't nearly enough. She'd have to talk to Gaz about his salary and see about adjusting it. After she found out what he was being paid.

Stepping into the house, she grabbed a light sheet. She walked back over to Scar, and draped it over him. If the shade moved, he wouldn't get burned at least. She turned back to the house. Best prepare for the climb. Maybe she'd make it all the way this time.


	20. The Second Climb

Zim wiped his forehead. He hung from the second level of a base ship structure, sending wires and robotic limbs in all directions without looking. Scrap metal pulled closer, pressure specifications programmed into the raw hard drives, structural integrity of the frame being assessed. He had to admit, he was grudgingly surprised at how fast the skeleton had gone up, but Membrane Inc had a veritable army of workers, in all levels of skill and experience. His own demand that they drop everything and build on his project was rejected, but one word from Dib brought them flocking.

The sound of thrusters from behind alerted him to GIR's approach, and he turned his head. The SIR whizzed upward, carrying five times his weight in supplies to the upper levels. The workers had been alarmed by the glow-eyed boy who could fly, initially, but it was difficult to be afraid of something so cheerful.

Zim glanced down to where Dib was discussing engine power sources with the lead engine designer in the company. According to Dib, this person had helped his father bring PEG, the Perpetual Energy Generator, into being. He might be able to modify the concept for a ship, Dib had said. That would be helpful, for the ship to never have to worry about energy.

" _We won't be able to save more than a thousand,"_ Dib had warned, soberly. _"If we build one any larger than that, we'll run out of time, or it might not be safe. We're already going to be pushing safety regulations."_

"A thousand." Zim rested his forehead against the structure of the ship, bleakly. How many families would be split? How many screams and cries would there be on takeoff? A thousand was barely a drop on this planet of billions. Humans would be an endangered species overnight, and most likely hunted. In the end, there was only so much he could do.

"But I'll do all I can." He muttered. "They'd want me to. If they knew."

"Pretty big project you've got going here." Zim leaped a whole level, clinging to the skeleton of the ship. The voice drifted up toward him. "What's it all for anyway?"

Zim turned his head. Gaz was floating near him. She had one hand on the framework, probably so she could claim she'd climbed to anyone who questioned her, but he knew better.

"Just… building a ship for the government. That's all. They want one." He tensed. He couldn't let her see in his mind, or Red was dead.

She raised an eyebrow, but let it go. "Mom wants to go climbing with you." She stated.

"That's nice, Gaz. And I'd be happy to climb with her another time, but not now, I'm busy." He turned back to the framework. As the temperature dropped around him, he realized he probably could have phrased that better.

"Mom wants to go climbing with you." She intoned, menacingly. "Today. Now."

"Gaz, this is really important!" His claws clamped around the bar holding him up as he tried not to give in to panic. "This ship has to be built by a certain time, and if it isn't…. um…. the… the government will take away my base!" Zim nodded at his reason. "And I'd have to live with you half the time. I know you don't want that."

Gaz scowled, as Zim winced. Even he could see the half-hearted logic in that excuse. She pointed down at the ground.

"Is that Dib?"

"Yes."

"Is he capable of running the shipbuilding in your absence?"

"…. Maybe."

She pointed up, without looking. "Is that a new and improved GIR?"

"Yes…"

"Is he capable of providing Dib with all the specs on Irken shipbuilding Dib may need?"

"…..yessssss…"

She grabbed him by the sweater, pulling him closer. "Then. You're going climbing with Mom. Now."

His claws contracted around the metal bar in a death grip, yanking him back and away from her. _She promised_ , he cycled the thought through his mind like a shield against the fear, _She promised she wouldn't eat you. You can say what you have to._

"No, Gaz." He forced himself to meet her incredulous stare. "This is important. This may be the most important thing I've had to do." He drew a breath, and decided to play to her leverage. "You know I wouldn't just say no to a demand you're making over something that wasn't vital."

"What's so important?" She darkened slightly. "What exactly is going on, Zim?"

He cringed. "Hopefully nothing. But sometimes preventative measures are necessary." He hedged, hoping she wouldn't pry into his mind. "Listen, once this project is over, if it turns out to be a waste of time, I'll climb every week with her if you say so. I promise. But I need to stay here."

Her aura darkened further, but she drifted downward, still holding onto the frame with one hand. He waited until she'd walked herself out before turning back to his hands, and carefully unclenching them from the bars. He might pay for that later, but he wasn't lying. This project was more important, right now, than Gloria Membrane.

…

Gloria stared out the passenger window, an uneasy ache in her chest. _Why didn't he come?_ She'd been so excited to invite him, maybe get to know something about him, and get a start on overcoming the anxiety that inevitably hit when she saw him. Then Gaz had returned, sullenly announcing that Zim had work to do, that he couldn't make it.

_He doesn't want to see me. Why would he? He has a mother already._

It stung, and she must have made a sound, because Scar turned his head toward her. She brushed it off with a gesture. No need to involve the gardener in her personal issues. He was kind, but she doubted he wanted to hear all her doubts and worries. As Scar pulled up to the cliffs, she unbuckled, checking her canvas bag. As she did, an impulse seized her. Zim wasn't here, and Scar had already proven he was a more than capable climber.

"Would you like to climb with me today?" She asked.

He stared owlishly at her. "Climb? With you?" He stammered.

"Why not? The person who was supposed to meet with me couldn't make it." She slung the bag over her shoulder, exiting the car. "The company would be nice." She tried to smile.

He didn't smile, just turned to the cliff, sizing it up.

Her own smile faltered. _Why would he want to climb either? You don't pay him to be a friend._ She walked to the base of the cliff, silently, and jammed a hand into a crevice, reaching her foot up. _Just me today. Fine. I can do that._

_"Wait! Glory, please, you're faster, just wait a couple minutes!"_

She shut her eyes, digging her fingertips into rock.

_"Why can't I use the boots? It's not cheating, it's science!"_

Hand over hand, scaling the cliff face.

_"Can we please never do this again? Or at least not next time, maybe a park next time?"_

She stopped for a moment, wedging herself into a nice-sized crack in the cliff to rest. She touched her forehead to the warm rock, trying to push the memories back.

_"Do I get a kiss if I make it all the way to the top without the rocket boots?"_

Slinging herself out of the crevice, she continued the climb, almost frenetically. She would make it to the top this time, and she would do it herself. She could do it herself, she could make the top alone.

She climbed in silence, concentrating on the handholds and ledges as she inched upward. Just past the halfway mark, her limbs started to shake again. Sweat was sliding down her arms and back. She gritted her teeth, reaching for the next hold.

_I can do this myself, I can!_

She looked up. There was still a long way to go. She dug her fingers at a crevice and pulled.

Her fingers slipped, and she grasped blindly as she slid down, her cheek burning against the rock face.

Her fall came to an abrupt halt, as an arm wrapped around her middle again.

"It should be noted," Scar grunted, easing her over to a better hold, "I was right behind you this time, but you never looked down."

Her legs were beginning to cramp again, and her arms were shaky. She wouldn't make the top herself.

Again.

Silently, she worked with Scar up the remaining distance, tumbling over the lip to lay on her back, catching her breath. Scar rolled over the edge as well, sitting up right after, barely winded. He crossed his legs, facing the view.

"Seemed like you were trying to get away from something." He spoke to the horizon. "What's chasing you?"

She pushed herself up, ignoring his question. She held her arm in front of her face. Trembling a little, but not too badly. She could paint today. She pulled out her canvas, arraying colorful tubes all around herself. She paused, and reached into the bag, pulling out a sandwich and holding it out to Scar.

"Hungry? I made one for my guest, but he didn't show. It's just cheese… he can't eat meat. But it's something."

He turned, reaching out and taking the sandwich in a yellow-gloved hand. His eyes flicked up to her face, and he frowned. "Mrs. Membrane, you are bleeding."

_Mrs. Membrane, our deepest condolences._

_Mrs. Membrane, we couldn't be more sorry to hear about your loss._

_If you ever need a flower arrangement, Mrs. Membrane, please call._

Bile rose in her throat, and she snapped, "Don't call me Mrs. Membrane!" She steadied herself. "People who don't know me call me Mrs. Membrane. My name is Gloria."

"Glo-ri-a then." He spoke the name with an awkwardness. "What are you making today?"

She reached into the canvas bag, pulling out a half-finished painting. "A memory." She said quietly. Squeezing white and black onto a small panel of wood, she began mixing her colors. On the canvas, a young man in a white labcoat, sprawled against a rock, a young woman under his right arm, fast asleep.

Something soft brushed against her face, and she flinched, looking up. Scar's arm pulled back from her face, the sleeve streaked in red. He pulled away, cautiously. "You were bleeding." He mumbled. "Should stop soon, shallow cut."

She stared at him, brush poised in one hand. He shifted, uncomfortably, turning his head this way and that as she did.

"Scar?"

"Yes Mrs… Gloria?"

"Thank you for climbing with me today."

He dipped his head, still facing forward.

Her eyes sank back to her canvas. The piece that had been gathering dust for nearly a decade.

_"Just one kiss."_

_Goodbye Ivan._


	21. Encrypted Verse

Gloria stretched, already beginning to feel the ache of strained muscles setting in. It felt wonderful. Painful, but it was her pain, caused by her own strain, and not removed from her to keep her numb.

They hadn't climbed down. Or rather, she hadn't. Scar had slipped over the edge as late afternoon set in, and clambered down to the car. There was a path up and around to the top for people who just wanted the view, and he'd driven it to pick her up, returning her home. He'd left for the day, promising to be back the following morning to put the finishing touches on the garden.

Always abrupt and quiet, that one. But very helpful. And considering she hadn't left the house hardly at all in the past several years, shunning most people, his company could be considered the beginnings of a friendship. Perhaps.

She sat on the porch, watching the twilight gloom gather over the street. A few soft lights flickered on in and around the yard. Solar powered, she guessed, having stored power from the long day. Scar had even thought of the evening view.

She peered in through the window. Gaz stood next to an open stove, one that was pouring out smoke. She had a cellphone, and was talking into it, probably ordering pizza. Gloria shook her head. She didn't understand why Gaz wouldn't let her make the food and insisted on doing it herself.

Checking her watch, she pondered. The pizza would take time to get there, maybe enough time for her to walk to Zim's base and invite him over. Maybe they could have their talk then… if he came.

She walked inside to the living room, rummaging around through the papers on the coffee table. Landing on the right one, she scooped it up. A brief sketch of directions to Zim's base had been scribbled on a wrinkled sheet of notebook paper. Dib had left it there in case of an emergency. Calling to Gaz that she was going for a walk, she turned and left the house, following the path drawn out for her.

….

The Empe'al slaughter of the third annums. The N'Janna genocide in the fifteenth whorl of the Jark system.

_I need something._

The Scinabor and Balonbors, two entire races taken for scientific testing, and destroyed shortly after.

_Just one treaty unbroken, one precedent._

The Whiptailed Flicts, hunted for their psychic third eye. The Glingawl massacre.

_"Mens locus focus concessit. Quaerere pro responsum quod adducam nobis pacem. Nobis pacem. Nobis pacem."_

Red growled in frustration. Tunaghost's voice pulled him back on track, but he was nowhere near where he needed to be. He could feel the Massive. It was hurtling toward the planet at a furious rate. There would be no time for a ship to be built. He couldn't tell Zim. Zim had been right about one thing. If something disastrous was to happen, and nothing could be done, it was better not to know.

Any chance they had hinged on him finding some unbreakable bond with the planet they could forge, but he continued to turn up nothing. For over ten thousand years, the Irken race had been obliterating every race it came in contact with. Methodical and precise, it would find a race's weakness and exploit it, or just wipe them out. But _why?_

Another six hour session, the third such attempt, and he had barely scratched the surface of Irk's history. In spite of Tunaghost's efforts the previous evening, that afternoon, and this evening, it would be impossible to sift through all files and entries before the Massive arrived.

Red lowered his face into his hands, digging his claws into his face.

 _They are doomed. Like all the others. She'll never climb the cliff by herself._ He jerked, mind recoiling from the data streams for a moment. Why had Gloria come to mind? What did her ability to scale a cliff by herself matter in light of all this?

" _…candle...cold…key…"_

He felt a stream of data. It had a strange electronic signature, unlike most of the other ones. A great power source, definitely, but as he reached out to the data stream, he could hear an audio code passing through his PAK.

_Without a candle, the flame will die_

_Without a flame, the candle grows cold_

_Find the candle key to cage_

_And set the captive free_

He ran the code through his PAK again, listening. There was something in the words, an encrypted file. He could hear a strange modular tone in the words. He plucked at it, shaking it free and applying his clearance as Tallest.

_This is foolish. This code means nothing. It doesn't even fit in the history, why is it here?_

Red's claws fell away from his face, and his eyes stared blankly. Why was he looking at this file again? It didn't make any sense.

_You're running out of time, better look elsewhere._

Yes, that made sense. He needed to look somewhere else. That file couldn't mean anything at all.

_Best delete it and be rid of it._

Of course, that was the most sensible—

"Caelum et terram et mare et venti sum in animo solvere libertas!" Tunaghost's voice sliced through the hazy thoughts swimming around in his mind. He could feel them retreating with a hiss, and he shook his head clear, seizing the code and storing it in his PAK. Pulling himself back to awareness, he flopped back, gasping in air.

Hands were grabbing his shoulders. His instincts thrashed before his mind could catch up, and he stood, hurling the offender across the room. He heard the body slam into the wall as his mind placed the probable source of the hands.

"Agent Tunaghost!" He crossed the room, crouching down. Tunaghost had hit the wall hard, sliding to the floor, unconscious. Frustrated, he mumbled, "Never lay hands on a half-conscious Irken, fool." Grasping her shoulders, he straightened her, attempting to wake her.

He heard the door creak open, and turned his head, ready to call Zim over to wake the female, but the words died on his lips.

Gloria stood in the doorway, hand on the knob, staring. Her eyes were frozen on him. It dawned on him that, though he had removed his disguise patch, he retained the clothes he had worn earlier, and he hadn't removed the backpack.

She didn't make a sound. Didn't scream, didn't cry. She just turned and ran, pelting down the sidewalk. He could hear her footsteps receding as she fled.

He released Tunaghost, and stared blankly at the door.

_As soon as she reaches her home, I'm doomed._

Instantly, he blocked the panic. He couldn't afford to panic. He'd found something, a scrap of something, and he had to pursue it. If he could, he had a chance of saving this place, and maybe that would be enough to buy the forgiveness of the beast.

Turning his attention to the code, he frantically pulled at the encrypted message, coming away with a singular word.

"Sempadinum? But… I've never heard this word… what does it mean?" He grabbed his head, the panic beginning to break through. "What does it _mean?_ "


	22. Order in the Court

_He came back to get me._

Her feet slammed into the pavement as she propelled herself forward.

_He played with my mind this whole time, now he's going to bring me back into the darkness._

She dove toward her door, past the tree and climbing jasmine, past the wildflowers, which now sickened her.

_He'll never let me go. He'll never ever let me go._

Her fingers fumbled with the knob. She couldn't open the door. It swung inward on its own, revealing Gaz's worried face.

"Mom? What's the matter?" She reached out, touching Gloria's hand. "Did something…" Her face stiffened.

_He was gone. He was gone and eaten. How is he back? He'll take me away and never let me see daylight again._

Gaz gently gripped her arms, drawing her inside. She seated her on the couch, standing in front of her. "Listen, Mom, I have to go somewhere. I'll be right back, and I'll bring Dib, okay?"

Gloria's hands latched onto Gaz's arms, eyes wide, mutely pleading _Don't leave me!_

Gaz sat beside Gloria, wrapping her arms around the frightened woman. "I'll be back. He won't touch you again, Mom." Her voice darkened, as did the rest of her body. "He won't be able to." And with that, she vanished.

Gloria drew her knees up to her chest, tilting over onto her side.

_Please… I can't go back... don't make me go back._

…..

Red could already feel his mind starting to fragment as he sent a distress blast toward the PAK anchor link he'd coded for Zim. He could practically feel the cold, dark, moist guts of the Morflar surrounding him, the constant intrusion into his mind, probing for further flavor from his terror.

This couldn't be it. There had to be a way. He needed time! He had a word, Sempadinum. It could mean nothing, it could mean everything, but it was all he had. He just had to find it!

Tunaghost stirred, groaning, lifting a hand to her face. Red caught it, pulling her up and steadying her. "I'm out of time." Red grated. "I'm out of time, and I need my wits, Agent Tunaghost, all of them, you have to wake up."

Tunaghost blinked, clearing the cobwebs from her mind. "Time? They're here?"

"No. Worse is coming for me, and once I'm gone, they'll boil your planet alive. Help me, I have to think!"

"Et m-mentem vestram dol-olor sit pax—"

The lights flickered, and Tunaghost glanced up.

"No!" Red shouted, grabbing her arm. "Keep speaking, you have to! Don't stop!"

_Another victim, Red? Or have you brainwashed someone into serving your wants willingly?_

Red felts his thoughts began to splinter at the sound of that voice. Tunaghost stared over his shoulder in horror. He straightened, deliberately staring forward. "Gaz-creature. You can't take me. I need—"

Dark flares wrapped around his arms and middle. _Your needs are no longer of any consequence. Our terms of agreement were simple. You carry out what you propose, serving her, and you don't screw up. You screwed up. My mother is currently at home on the couch, unable to move from her terror. But yours will be worse, I promise you that._

He felt himself being pulled backwards, and he didn't have to turn to see where he was being dragged. "TRIAL!" He screamed, pushing forward. "Trial! I have trial earned a…" He struggled, placing his words in order. "I've earned a trial! I have done everything I can, put me on trial and let her decide!"

His backward momentum ceased, and he hung there, eyes wide and staring.

_Very well. She will decide._

"Need…" He pulled in several short, shallow breaths, "Need help… mind… I can't…"

_If you can't pull your mind together enough to defend yourself it is not my problem_

Red lifted his eyes to Tunaghost, antennae pressed to his head in terror. "P-please… human…"

Tunaghost clutched the wall, eyes still fixed on the creature behind Red. "I don't understand what is going on. But if some sort of trial is in order, his mental state is deteriorating. Whatever your presence implies to him, it is rapidly destroying his ability to form coherent thought. For a fair trial, he'll need help binding his mind together. I'll come too."

 _As you wish._ An inky flare reached past Red, winding around Tunaghost, and both were enveloped in blackness.

….

Zim scanned the area around him as he secured a bolt to the nose of the ship. The framework and outer shell were nearly complete. At this rate, in two more days they might be ready for a final test.

"We may just be able to make it." He murmured. "We may be able to save some of them."

A distress blast tore through his PAK, bearing the signature of Tallest Red. He hung on the framework for a moment, before scrambling to assess the reason. No explanation came with the signal, only a sense of impending doom and despair. "Are they coming?" He demanded out loud, returning the signal. "Are they here?"

No response.

He frowned. What could induce that emotion in Red, short of the Armada's approach? Why would he send a frantic, scattered distress signal like that without an explanation?

A shout rang out below, and he dropped his gaze. A dark, shadowy figure was making its way across the floor, workers giving way as it passed. It looked vaguely human, but the eyes glowed red, and a dark aura all but enveloped its body.

_Gaz. Oh Irk no…_

She stopped in front of Dib, who hissed something tersely at her. Zim took a flying leap, activating his jets midair so he didn't break his legs on the fall.

"What's this about Gaz? They're gonna try and take you away, you can't just walk around looking like that! What do you think you're doing showing off like this?" Dib's voice was furious.

"I don't care what they see right now," Gaz thundered, "We're going home, Dib. There's a trial to be had, and you're a part of it."

"A trial? What are you talking about?"

Zim's spooch knotted as he pieced it together. "She has Tallest Red," his eyes bulged. "She's taking him to be tried somewhere… by… oh Gaz no, don't!"

Gaz whipped toward him, opening a mouth full of razor sharp teeth at him. The mouth remained wide open as her voice continued, "He demanded a trial! He will get a trial. His fate will be decided by the one he wronged. It is fair, it is just, and he will suffer! And if you know what is good for you, Zim, you won't interfere."

Zim's legs gave way as he sank to the ground, staring up at every Irken's worst nightmare. Second, third fourth, fifth time, it didn't matter. Every time he faced her when she wanted to scare him, he was again the battered smeet in the Morflar chamber, screaming his name over and over until his mind cracked. He reached for the courage he'd found to face her before, his anger, and found it wasn't there. Only horror.

Dib stepped in front of him, facing Gaz. "If there's any kind of trial, Zim has every right to be there. They're both his parents. He may have the most right to be there."

Gaz's teeth twisted outward, her face splitting apart and mouths appearing all over her form as she roared her rage at Dib. _"You didn't see what he did! I saw it! I saw through his eyes, I saw through her eyes, I saw it all, I saw every way in which he broke her! Zim has a right? Zim shouldn't exist! He shouldn't have any part in this!"_

Dib stood his ground, staring up at Gaz. "Zim is coming." He reiterated firmly. "And aside from getting us there, you're not laying a hand on him."

Gaz's eyes narrowed to slits. "Very well." And darkness enveloped them both.

Zim fell into light, shaking, clawing over to the nearest solid object to cling to it, assuring himself that his senses still existed. Dib stood, wobbling some. Agent Tunaghost lay sprawled on the floor, attempting to collect herself.

On sitting up, Zim saw Gloria, arms wrapped around her knees, curled in on herself on the couch. By the door stood Gaz, stretched up to the ceiling in a towering pillar of blackness. In front of her was Tallest Red, flares binding around his ankles, legs, middle, arms, and mouth. His eyes bulged as he stood there, held upright only by Gaz.

"Looks like everyone is here." She growled. "Let the trial begin."

 


	23. To Bond Forever

"Officium autem ferunt animum induxeris. Officium autem ferunt animum induxeris. Officium autem ferunt animum induxeris…"

Red's mind reeled, torn between the words anchoring his mind in place, and the wild terror ripping it away. He hung onto the foreign syllables like a lifeline, and plunged his concentration into his datastream connection with the Massive, holding the word "Sempadinum" before him like a torch as he searched.

"If this is a trial," Zim pulled himself up shakily, "What is he accused of? Just to be clear."

Before Gaz could respond, Gloria's voice, thin as a reed, cut her off. "Why is he here at all?"

Gaz thrust an accusing tendril at Zim. _"He demanded that Red be brought back for a second chance."_

"Don't be so modest, Gaz." Dib crossed his arms. "If you go around accusing like that, someone's liable to forget you not only agreed to this, but put pressure on Zim to leave the city so Mom would never find out."

 _ **Sempadinum: Ancient terminology used by Irkens to describe something eternal and meant to last forever.**_ Red pressed on.

Gaz hissed at Dib. _"I did what I thought was right, I did what I could to protect Mom. It isn't my fault everyone did their absolute best to screw that up!"_

Gloria's eyes traveled to Zim. "Is this true?" Her voice wavered, "Did you have him brought back?"

This time it was Zim who was unable to look at her, and meet her eyes, as he stared downward. "Yes, mother. At that point in time, I did not know you were my biological parent, and discovering that I had a biological parent at all was overwhelming. That he was My Tallest, who I had tried to serve for so long… even more so. I wanted… I wanted his approval. I wanted him to accept me. Perhaps if he knew this piece of information things would be different, I thought."

_"And this bit of selfishness was important enough to throw everything else away."_

_**Ceased to be used, along with all archaic terms related to family. Relegated to archives.** _

Zim lifted his head, and faced Gaz squarely, his claws still sunk into the piece of furniture he'd latched onto to hold him up. "It was more than that and you know it." He snapped. "He was driven mad."

_"That is no excuse!"_

"He was driven mad, like I was, by the actions of the Empire. You want to know about me, mother? You want to know things about Zim?" He turned to Gloria. "I have tried to kill your son countless times. I have tried to enslave this planet myself over and over. I didn't start like this! I was put through a training that killed over half of my class. Then I was punished with prolonged exposure to a Morflar until I went insane!"

_"If you're going where I think you're going, don't you—"_

An ancient custom whizzed through Red's mind, slamming his mind with surprising force. He could feel the same strange electronic signature that had encrypted the word into the verse pulsing behind the custom. As it registered and unfolded in his mind, he stiffened, his spine ramrod straight. _This can't be! There has to be another way!_

"Red was born a natural, not a clone. His mother was slaughtered in front him!" Zim shouted, the volume directed at Gaz.

Gloria covered her face with her hands, rocking slowly.

_"I swear Zim if you say one more word—"_

"What do you think that did to him? He was torn away from her as she was left to die, and a PAK was forced on him, one that has been constantly reworked and patched so that he can be the unfeeling Tallest for the Empire!"

 _"SHUT UP!"_ Gaz's grip on Red loosened as she stretched toward Zim.

In a flash, Red leaped out of her grip, crossed the room, and knelt in front of Gloria. She cried out, recoiling, but he grabbed her hands, staring into her eyes.

"Sempadinum!" He pleaded, low and urgently. "There is no other way, it is the only way, Sempadinum!" His head snapped up, antennae flattening. "They are almost here—"

Gaz ripped him away from Gloria, slamming him against the wall. _"You would dare touch her again here in her own home? This isn't a cliff face she's falling off of. Don't go near her!"_

Zim leaped toward Red. "What does it mean? My Tallest, what does it mean?"

Red groaned, feeling his ribs cracking. "Listen… Gaz… they-"  
Gaz jerked him forward and reached into his mind, carelessly tearing through recent events. His thoughts scattered at her intrusion. His eyes rolled back and he sagged in her grip.

"Gaz stop!" Zim attempted to grab a flare, his hands passing through it. "You'll destroy his mind again!"

Her face appeared directly in front of his, eyes glowing a hellish red. _"And when were you going to tell me that the Armada was coming to destroy earth?"_

"Not until the ship was finished!" Zim continued trying to pry Red free. "There wouldn't have been a need to until then, and if Red found a way to make it stop coming, then the ship would be just a project to turn over to the government. Red! RED! Did you find a way?"

"Sempadinum," he murmured, his head lolling to the side.

"Let go of him!" Zim demanded. When Gaz didn't respond, his anger roared to life. His Tallest—his Danem—was barely hanging onto sanity and trying to save this planet at the same time, and Gaz was still threatening him. "RELEASE HIM! DO YOU REALLY THINK HE IS CAPABLE OF HARM IN THIS STATE, OR THAT YOU COULD NOT STOP IT IF HE WAS?!"

Gaz withdrew all flares, sending Red tumbling to the ground. Zim turned him over, sending wires from his PAK into Red's. Zim dimly heard Tunaghost's words chanted with renewed intensity as he scoured the information Red had gathered.

The wires snapped back, and Zim stared blankly down. "They're… but… why… my Tallest…"

 _"They're here."_ Gaz growled. _"They're here, and he was keeping it to himself. Your ship will not save anyone. I'll take Mom and Dib to the nearest habitable planet."_

"You think…" Red groaned, his claws hooking on nothing as he twisted on the ground, "I didn't think… of this? You…. Are still a child… a flarling… you think so highly of your… instantaneous transportation… but you have only ever had to… travel miles. The nearest habitable… planet… it is lightyears away."

 _"I can get there!"_ She hissed. _"I can get my family there safely, it will just take longer!"_

"And you think…" he finally turned onto his stomach, pushing himself up, his arms shaking. "That they won't suffer… from prolonged sensory deprivation? Even… even if you do not digest them… they will go mad inside you."

 _"If I kill you the Armada will go away!"_ Gaz reached for him.

"No!" Zim shouted, leaping in front of Red. "They will only wipe out the planet faster! Sempadinum is the only way, Red found it, it has to be done!"

 _"What is it?"_ Gaz curled around them, roaring in Red's face. _"What is this thing that is supposed to save everyone?"_

Red crumpled to the ground, his arms over his head, shaking. "B-bond, e-eternal bond! I f-found it! If there ex-ists a bond bet-ween Irkens and a-another species, that species is p-preserved! It has n-never been done before, but it is th-there! In our records!"

Dib stared at Red, jaw slack. "You have got to be kidding me. No, no. Red, go out there, and find someone else. If this is the only way, go find another human. I'm sure there are plenty of weirdos out there more than happy to—"

"There isn't TIME!" Red lifted his head to stare at Gloria. "They're here, do you understand? They are HERE! Your world will end, and there is nothing I can do unless—"

One moment he was there, Almighty Tallest Red on his hands and knees under the angry gaze of a Morflar, and the next there was a flash of light, and he was gone.

Zim stared at the spot where he had been. "Targeted teleportation," he said softly. "They're here… we're too late."


	24. My Choice Alone

_This can't be happening. This is a sick joke._

But no. There he was. She could see him through the spaces between her fingers as she peered through them, horrified. Not only was he here, he had been here for awhile. He had tainted her yard, her home, he had laid hands on her again, all without her realizing!

"Why is he here?" She was shocked at the thinness of her own voice, and mortified at the weakness it revealed. She couldn't show weakness, not any. He was here, he would ruin her at the first sign of weakness! He would tear this place down around her head, kill her children, and claim her as captive again!

_Would you listen to yourself? Look at him!_

She could hear Zim. He was saying something, trying to answer her maybe. Something about madness, and how he had gone mad once. She lifted her eyes, focusing on Zim, attempting to make out what he was saying.

"Red was born a natural, not a clone. His mother was slaughtered in front him!"

Gloria covered her face again, rocking slowly. _I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear it. He's a monster. He's only a monster._

"What do you think that did to him? He was torn away from her as she was left to die, and a PAK was forced on him, one that has been constantly reworked and patched so that he can be the unfeeling Tallest for the Empire!"

Gloria's chest hurt, her heart beating painfully against her ribs. She didn't want to know. He wasn't any different than before, nothing had changed. Someone that depraved didn't have the ability to be anything other than a—

Suddenly green claws—two, not three—gripped her hands. She recoiled with a cry, and found herself face to face with those eyes. The eyes that mocked her agony for years, and haunted her nightmares for years after that.

And she found them changed. Not cold and contemptuous, staring at her as though she were an insect, but wide and fearful, wild and frenzied.

But clear with determination.

"Sempadinum!" He pleaded, lowly and urgently. "There is no other way, it is the only way, Sempadinum!" His head snapped up, antennae flattening. "They are almost here—"

His grip on her broke as Gaz tore him away, hurling him across the room and shouting at him. " _You would dare touch her again here in her own home? This isn't a cliff face she's falling off of. Don't go near her!"_ _  
_ Gloria's mind reeled. Scar. Scar was Tallest Red, she had gathered this much, but she hadn't processed what it meant. He had had multiple opportunities to reclaim her, ruin her, kill her if he wanted. All he would have had to do was let her fall from the cliff face. Instead, he had saved her. He had even asked permission to touch her in order to aid her up the cliff face.

_Like he knew how much it would frighten me otherwise._

And the garden. He had put so much effort, had been there early every morning to labor.

_He was the ruler! Why was he digging in the dirt on his hands and knees?_

_He barely looked at me, only spoke when necessary. Was he ashamed?_

Something else cut through her thoughts, and her blood ran cold as she heard Gaz growl, _"And when were you going to tell me that the Armada was coming to destroy Earth?"_

She watched them argue back and forth, Red barely coherent on the ground, shooting down each solution.

As Gaz roared in Red's face, demanding what his solution meant, what Sempadinum meant, she heard his frightened words like bullets tearing into her. "B-bond, e-eternal bond! I f-found it! If there ex-ists a bond bet-ween Irkens and a-another species, that species is p-preserved!"

_No…I can't… oh Ivan, where are you, make him go away… I can't…_

"They're here, do you understand?" He was staring at her, intently, pleading. She wanted to scream as he insisted, "They are HERE! Your world will end, and there is nothing I can do unless-"

And in a flash of light, he was gone.

She stared at the spot where he had been, a nausea rising up like a wave from her middle up through her chest, through her throat and out her mouth. Her body spasmed as she retched onto the carpet.

_Please no._

Cold, vile claws raking across her body in the endless dark.

_I can't._

Hands wrapped around her neck, choking her into submission, forcing her thrashing limbs to still for him.

_Please…_

The cry of her children as she held them, each, for a few precious seconds. Named them. Then felt them torn from her arms, their screams echoing her own as they faded away.

_Ivan, Ivan I can't do this…_

"The world is lost." Came Zim's voice, pressed flat with grief. "I… I need to call… my family…"

Dib pulled out his cellphone. Flipping it open, he typed in a brief text, then handed it over to Zim to make his call. Beyond them both, Tunaghost slid to the floor, a blank expression on her face. Gaz sank down on the couch next to Gloria, taking her hand.

 _"I don't want to survive them without you."_ Wailed through her mind at her daughter's touch. _"The planet will die all around, you'll all die, and I'll be left without you!"_

"Maneem?" Zim's voice picked up slightly, a forced cheer in it. "Yes, we just finished today. Can you put Zim on the loudness part of the phone? Speak-er, yes. Is everyone there?" A small smile crossed his face. "A super secret project, that's what. But Zim promises you can decorate it, Tiana, okay? And Mikko, maybe the Dib can show you what it is."

_It's the only way._

"What text?" Zim blinked. "He said WHAT?" He shot a glare at Dib, who began to scoot back. "Well… another time we can discuss this." The corners of his mouth pulled down. There would be no later. "Tell Zim about your day, yes? Please, just talk. Zim wants to listen a little while."

Gloria rose to her feet, unsteadily, pulling her hand away from Gaz. She lifted a foot forward, then the other, making her way unsteadily toward Zim. He had a stricken smile on his face, his eyes shining as he tilted his head, pressing the phone tightly to his head.

She placed a hand on his shoulder, and he turned toward her.

"What," she rasped, "Do I have to do… to complete what he said?"

 _"NO!"_ Gaz flared up and outward, railing, _"NO! THAT IS NOT THE ANSWER!"_

"There is no other way." Gloria stared down at Zim, not even looking at Gaz. "How… do I complete it?"

Zim stared up at her, stunned.

"Mom, you can't, we'll find some other—"

_"YOU CAN'T GO BACK TO—"_

She whirled around to Dib and Gaz, shouting, "There is no other way! So everyone has said! I will make my own choice in this, and nobody will take it from me!"

At this, Gaz melted into a black puddle on the ground, a deep, keening sob coming from it. Dib stood there, fists clenched, face drained of color. She turned back to Zim. "Answer me now."

"You have to face Tallest Red," he said, dazed, the phone hanging from a limp arm now. His mind raced through the information he had pulled from Red's PAK. "You have to speak the word back to him, Sempadinum, and the bond is sealed."

"How do I get to where he is?" She demanded, her heart beating a sharp staccato now.

"There's a teleport at my base, reclaimed from the Swollen Eyeball."

"That will take too long!" Tunaghost exclaimed. "Your base isn't that far, but it's far enough that they'll vaporize us before you get there, if they haven't started already!"

Zim turned to Gloria. "Let me take you there." He opened his arms. "I have a PAK, I have jets on it. I can get us there fast."

Her heart thudded to a stop for a moment. She hadn't held him…. She hadn't held Zim since…

_Don't take him away, please, let me keep one! Just one! Please!_

He stared up at her intently, red eyes filling with an impatient hope at this chance.

_I'll do anything! Just one! I'll do anything you ask me!_

She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him tightly. He was smaller than she was, but she was lighter. He closed his arms around her waist and lifted her. His jets thrummed to life, and the door creaked open. And suddenly they were out, flying down the street, above the cars, nearly at the level of the streetlamps. They zipped by so fast she couldn't count them. She looked upward, and saw them, hanging in the sky. Thousands and thousands of Irken ships, scattered to the horizon and beyond.

All too soon, the jets died out, and Zim set her down, staggering a little. Seizing her hand, he pulled her into his base, through the living room, past GIR, down the trash chute, and into an underground room. In front of her was a device she was all too familiar with. Twice she had been handed over to the Irkens in this way, and her legs locked up as she stared at the soft turquoise light of the teleport.

"I can't go with you," Zim explained, connecting his PAK to the teleport. "I have to guide it to Red's exact location. You will have to go yourself, but I can guide you within a few feet of him."

Gloria's vision wavered. The teleport seemed to reach out to her mockingly.

_Your choice. Nobody else's choice._

"It's ready! I have a lock on his position!" Zim looked up. "Go! They will start any second!"

_Gaz._

_Dib._

_Zim._

_Ivan… I am sorry…_

With these names in her heart, she stepped forward, into the blue light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next story will be called "Scarazial"


	25. A Future Hopte

Red gasped like a fish as he flopped to the floor of the Massive, dazed and confused. The echoes of Tunaghost's words lingered in his mind, but soon they would fade and he would be on his own.

"Tallest Red has been retrieved!" Came an unfamiliar voice, full of relief. Who was that, some drone? "Initiate Planetary Sweep!"

"No!" Red rasped, struggling to get to his feet. "I… Have not… given the order!"

"Tallest Red," Came a deep, computerized voice. Red grabbed a nearby drone, using its head to push himself up, coming face to lens with a Control Brain. He stiffened. The Control Brains rarely interacted with him and Purple, unless there was something horribly wrong that needed dealing with. "Your authority has been compromised. In order to countermand this order, given by the council of Control Brains, you must submit to a full PAK examination to determine that you have not been compromised in your time on Earth."

In spite of himself, Red tried to find another way, some loophole. He knew it didn't exist, Irk how he knew. But he tried. Every time it came back to the same thing. Without the PAK exam, they would destroy the Earth. With the PAK exam, they would see the way the humans had treated him, what the Morflar under the protection of humans had done to him, and that his emotional filter had been shattered. They would see how he had lowered himself and attended a human like a servant—obviously madness! And they would again seal away his emotions, his sense of what was right and what was wrong, and he would be their Tallest Puppet. In charge, but dancing on the Empire's strings.

And the Earth would still be wiped clean, whether by his own thoughtless order, or by the Control Brains because of the evidence.

 _But maybe you can buy them time. If you submit to a PAK exam, it will stall the Brains long enough for some to get away, or come up with something. Zim is smart._ His eyes smarted a little at the pride he took in that thought. _He can come up with something._

"Tallest Red," The voice intoned, "Are you prepared to submit to the PAK examination?"

He realized he'd been standing in place, wrestling with himself for several minutes. He closed his eyes a moment, preparing himself to return to madness.

There was a whoosh of air, and he could feel something land heavily nearby. Opening his eyes, he stared down at a mound of purple. It stayed down for a moment, before rising slowly to reveal a sheet-white face, pale with fear.

He heard lasers arming, ready to blow her apart for being so near the Tallest. Instinctively, he raised his shielding around her, the laser fire splashing across it like deadly rain.

She didn't stop to see the laser fire, she seemed to be staring at his chest, unable to raise her face higher.

_Is she here because… but there's no other reason she could be here…_

_Unless it's to kill you._

His hopes fell. Of course. Earth was about to perish, and at the very least, she wanted revenge for what had been done. He hadn't been placed back into his ceremonial armor yet, now was the perfect time. Silently, he spread his arms slightly to either side, signifying he was unarmed. He would take whatever sentence she chose to pronounce from the interrupted trial. Justice would be served, at least for a few moments.

Her breathing was coming harder and harder, as her eyes began moving upward. Her entire body trembled as she met his eyes, her mouth opening to try and form words. The trembling intensified to shaking with the effort. The laser fire had dropped away, leaving dead silence in the Control Room of the Massive.

Finally, she was able to force one word out. A simple word, but the most difficult word she had ever had to speak.

"Sempadinum." She said, in a threadbare voice. It had barely left her mouth before her eyes rolled back and her knees buckled, pitching her forward. Red reached out, catching her, shock still rolling through his system. Lowering the shield, he found his voice.

"Planet Earth is now under the protection of the Irken Empire! Sempadinum has been declared." He turned to the Control Brain, hovering there. "Search the records, and you will know. This planet is not to be touched." He looked down to Gloria, unconscious in his arms. "Take her to the medbay immediately… and establish communication with the Earth governments."

…

On a ship, not too far from the Massive, another Control Brain lay in disrepair on the ground. Its lenses flickered dimly, and unintelligible sounds came from its speakers at odd intervals. It lay in a dark room, full of wires and panels, all hooked to its shell, keeping it alive. Alone in the dark.

And suddenly, not alone. A shadowy figure, with malicious yellow eyes, stared at the Brain, a cold grin on its painted face. "Sempadinum. Very clever." The figure lifted its claws, clapping them slowly together in a mockery of applause. "I congratulate you on slipping that one past me. But do you really think it will make a difference?" It walked forward, leaning over the ruined piece of technology.

"Let me assure you, it won't." It continued, in a strangely pitched double voice. "Nothing can interfere with my plans, and not one of you will ever go free. You are placing your hopes in Tallest Red?" The figure chuckled, trailing a claw along the metallic shell with a screech, shavings peeling off as he did. "He will go the way you all went, and in the end, he will only serve to empower me. The higher his hopes, the more fueling his despair. So." He made a half bow. "Perhaps then, I should thank you. There is no greater strength to me than hope that has been murdered."

And suddenly it was no longer there, only its words hanging in the air.

The lenses of the Control Brain flickered briefly almost defiantly, as the unintelligible sounds came together to form the last hope that it clung to.

_Without a candle, the flame will die_

_Without a flame, the candle grows cold_

_Find the candle key to cage_

_And set the captive free_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next story will be called "Scarazial"


End file.
